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 16, 2024.

I sing thy praise Bacchus,
Who with thy Thyrse dost thwack us:
And yet thou so dost black us

With boldnesse that we feare
No Brutus entring here;
Nor Cato the severe.

What though the Lictors threat us,
We know they dare not beat us;
So long as thou dost heat us.

When we thy Orgies sing,
Each Cobler is a King;
Nor dreads he any thing.

And though he doth not rave,
Yet he'l the courage have

To call my Lord Major knave; Besides too, in a brave.

Although he has no riches,
But walks with dangling breeches,
And skirts that want their stitches;
And shews his naked flitches;

Yet he'l be thought or seen;
So good as George-a-Green;
And calls his Blouze, his Queen,
And speaks in a Language keen.

O Bacchus! let us be
From cares and troubles free;
And thou shalt hear how we
Will Chant new Hymnes to thee.