Detail View: LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection: A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].

142191

V.a.125

A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].

Part I. When reading Part I, Part II is inverted and reversed.

Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.

ca. 1630

folio 38 verso || folio 39 recto

FSL collection

http://hamnet.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=229445

Soe vgly & deformed th a t they seeme Witches, already being but fifteene These are true remedies for loue, & vexe My soule soe much th a t I halfe hate th e Sexe But then one thought of you soe good soe rare Makes mee to loue your Sex or foule or faire When on these higher mountaine tops I trace And see th e countries vnderneath this place I wish you heer th a t th'vnder world meight see Your beautie far 'boue there deformitie. Were you but here wee then should find noe night Being enlightned with soe pure a light. Wee then should thinke th e Moone had gone astray And you were come heer to Supply her way But yet more bright more constant far then shee That vnto vs appeares Soe variously. And yet I wish you absent for I feare Your presence an Idolatrie would reare Youle say these lines are compliments I know And faith I care not for I meant them Soe Poets may write what ever they desier And if you lik't not cast it in th e fier. ER page break 39. To a Gentleman who had gotten the running of the reines . X Robin When at th e Globe wee last did dine Vnkind thou bard'st thy thirstie Soule her wine In thee two Deuills stroue thy whooring Sinn Refus'd to let thy drinking Deuell in. Thou knowest mee well & wilt expect th a t I Against th e pot take part with Lecherie; True; for a common drunkard I doe Sett Twelue Score beehind a loathsome Sodomet Yet am testy growne for thy mishap Neither to Bawd nor whoore I'le Stirr my cap Not th a t mi'nt phleame & zeale breeds such a Qualme As voided forth plaine Robert Wisdomes psalme But for thy sake as fits a constant friend I'le raile against th e Queanes world without end Then sursum Corda: tell truth honnest Muse Play th e wise constable a bribe refuse When strong Potatoes & rich wines are flowne Throughout th e marrow & th e soule is growne

Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.