Recreation for ingenious head-peeces, or, A pleasant grove for their wits to walk in of epigrams 700, epitaphs 200, fancies a number, fantasticks abundance : with their addition, multiplication, and division.

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Title: Recreation for ingenious head-peeces, or, A pleasant grove for their wits to walk in of epigrams 700, epitaphs 200, fancies a number, fantasticks abundance : with their addition, multiplication, and division.
Author: Mennes, John, Sir, 1599-1671.
Publication: London :: Printed by M. Simmons ...,; 1654.
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.; Epigrams.; Epitaphs.
Link to this Item: http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A50616.0001.001
Cite this Item: "Recreation for ingenious head-peeces, or, A pleasant grove for their wits to walk in of epigrams 700, epitaphs 200, fancies a number, fantasticks abundance : with their addition, multiplication, and division." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A50616.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 17, 2024.

Pages

154. On Iohn Dawson Butler.
Dawson the Butler's dead, although I think
Poets were nere insusd with single drink,
Ile spend a farthing Muse, a watery Verse
Will serve the turn to cast upon his Herse.
If any cannot weep among us here,
Take off his cup, and so squeze out a teare.
Weep O ye barrels, let your drippings fall
In trickling streams, make wast more prodigall,
Then when our beer was good, that Iohn may float
To Stix in beer, and lift up Charrons boat,
With wholsome waves: and as the Conduits ran
VVith Claret, at the Coronation,
So let your channels flow with single Tiff,
For Iohn I hope is crown'd: take off your whiff,
Ye men of Rosemary, and drink up all,
Remembring 'tis a Butlers Funerall:
Had he been Master of good duble beer,
My life for his, Iohn Dawson had been here.