Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts / part I, occasionally written by Mrs. Jane Barker, part II, by several gentlemen of the universities, and others.

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Title: Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts / part I, occasionally written by Mrs. Jane Barker, part II, by several gentlemen of the universities, and others.
Author: Barker, Jane.
Publication: London :: Printed for Benjamin Crayle ...,; 1688.
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 poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700.; Songs, English -- Texts.
Link to this Item: http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A30923.0001.001
Cite this Item: "Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts / part I, occasionally written by Mrs. Jane Barker, part II, by several gentlemen of the universities, and others." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A30923.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.

I Dread this tedious Time more than
A Fop to miss a Fashion,
Or the Pope's Head Tavern can
Dread the long Vacation.

This time's as troublesome to me,
As th'Town when Mony's spent;
Grave Lectures to a Debauchee,
Or Whigs to th' Government.

Methinks I almost wish 'twas torn
Out of the Rolls of Fate;
Or that some Pow'r, till his return,
Wou'd me annihilate.

But I, alas, must be content,
Upon necessity;
Since him, untill this time be spent,
I cannot hope to see.

No more than we can hope to have
The Life of perfect bliss,
Till by Afflictions, and the Grave,
We're separate from this.