Wits recreations. Selected from the finest fancies of moderne muses
About this Item
- Title
- Wits recreations. Selected from the finest fancies of moderne muses
- Publication
- London :: Printed by R[ichard] H[odgkinson and Thomas Paine] for Humphry Blunden at the Castle in Corn-hill,
- 1640.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- English wit and humor -- Early works to 1800.
- Epigrams, English -- Early works to 1800.
- Epitaphs -- England -- Early works to 1800.
- Proverbs, English -- Early works to 1800.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A15606.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Wits recreations. Selected from the finest fancies of moderne muses." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A15606.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 8, 2024.
Pages
Page [unnumbered]
And weares his tongue, of such a damned fashion,
That swearing is his only recreation.
In morning, even assoon as he doth rise,
He swears his sleep is scarcely out of's eyes;
Then makes him ready, swearing all the while,
The drowzy weather did him much beguile.
Got ready, he, to dice or tables goes,
Swearing an oath, at every cast he throws:
To dinner next, and then in stead of Grace,
He swears his stomack is in hungry case.
No sooner din'd, but calls, come take away,
And swears 'tis late, he must goe see a Play.
There sits, and swears, to all he hears and see's,
This speech is good, that action disagrees.
So takes his Oa••es, and swears he must make hast,
His houre of Supper-time is almost past.