Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DIALOGUE, BETWEEN CRAB AND GILLIAN, by THOMAS D'URFEY First Line: Where oxen do low and apples do grow Last Line: And so you may ring the bells. Subject(s): Conversation; Farewell; Hunting; Plague; Towns; Parting; Hunters | ||||||||
Crab WHERE oxen do low and apples do grow, Where corn is sown and grass is mown, Where pigeons do fly and rooks nestle high, Fate give me for life a place; Gill. Where hay is well cocked and udders are stroked, Where duck and drake cry quack, quack, quack, Where turkeys lay eggs and sows suckle pigs, Oh, there I would pass my days. Crab On nought we will feed Gill. But what we do breed; Crab And wear on our backs Gill. The wool of our flocks. Crab And though linen feel Gill. Rough, spun from the wheel, 'Tis cleanly, though coarse it comes. Crab Town follies and cullies, and Mollies and Dollies, For ever adieu and for ever; Gill. And beaus that in boxes lie nuzzling their doxies, In wigs that hang down to their bums. Crab Adieu, the Pall Mall, the Park and Canal, St. James's Square and flaunters there, The gaming-house too, where high dice and low Are managed by all degrees. Gill. Goodbye to the knight was bubbled last night, That keeps a blowze and beats his spouse, And now in great haste, to pay what he lost, Sends home to cut down the trees. Crab And hey for the lad Gill. Improves ev'ry clod, Crab That ne'er set his hand Gill. To bill or to bond, Crab Nor barters his flocks Gill. For wine or the pox, To chouse him of half his days; Crab But fishing and fowling, hunting and bowling, His pastimes are ever and ever, Gill. Whose lips when ye buss 'em Smell like the bean-blossom; Ah, he 'tis shall have my praise. Crab To taverns where grow sour apple and sloe A long adieu, and farewell too The house of the great, whose cook has no meat And butler can't quench my thirst; Gill. Goodbye to the Change, where rantipoles range, Farewell cold tea and ratafie, Hyde Park too, where Pride in coaches will ride, Although they be choked with dust. Crab Farewell the law-gown, Gill. The plague of the town, Crab And friends of the Crown Gill. Cried up or run down. Crab And city jackdaws, Gill. That fain would make laws To measure by yards and ells; Crab Stockjobbers and swabbers, and toasters and roasters, For ever adieu and for ever; Gill. We find what you're doing and home we're a-going, And so you may ring the bells. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAMENT OF QUARRY by LEONIE ADAMS KILLDEER by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE YOUNG FOWLER THAT MISTOOK HIS GAME by PHILIP AYRES A POEM ABOUT THE HOUNDS AND THE HARES by LISEL MUELLER SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN |
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