A Satyr upon the Town and Times

A Satyr upon the Town and Times. [b]

Heaven knows for what great crying sin of mine,
(But sure it must be for some heynous sin)
The fates did so severe a Curse assign.
'Thank fate I had no Action to be tried
No suit at Court to Halifax, or Hide:
I carried no Abhorrence, or Adress
Nor was I of the Irish Witnesses;
That Warcup might assure me of a Place:
But (for what sin of mine I do not know
The fates ordain'd that I should thither go.

Nothing henceforth shall ever bring me there
But a Pursuivant or a Messenger:
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.