Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON THE FALL OF THE MITRE TAVERN IN CAMBRIDGE, by THOMAS RANDOLPH


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON THE FALL OF THE MITRE TAVERN IN CAMBRIDGE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lament, lament, ye scholars all
Last Line: But now we'll drink like doctors.
Subject(s): Bars & Bartenders; Cambridge, England; Fire; Pubs; Taverns; Saloons


LAMENT, lament, ye scholars all,
Each wear his blackest gown,
The Mitre, that held up your wits,
Is now itself fallen down.

The dismal fire on London Bridge
Can move no heart of mine;
For that but o'er the water stood,
But this stood o'er the wine.

It needs must melt each Christian's heart
That this sad news but hears,
To think how the good hogsheads wept
Good sack and claret tears.

The zealous students of that place
Change of religion fear:
That this mischance may soon bring in
A heresy of beer.

Unhappy Mitre! I would know
The cause of this sad hap:
Came it by making legs too low
To Pembroke's cardinal cap?

Then know thyself, and cringe no more,
Since Popery went down,
That cap should vail to thee, for now
The Mitre's next the Crown!

Or was't because our company
Did not frequent your cell,
As we were wont, to drown our cares:
So fox'd thyself, and fell?

Nay, sure, the devil was a-dry,
And caus'd this fatal blow;
'Twas he that made the cellar sink,
That he might drink below!

Yet, though some say that the devil did it,
That he might drink up all;
I rather think that the Pope was drunk,
And let the Mitre fall.

Lament, ye Eton conjurors,
The want of skill acknowledge:
To let your tavern fall, that stood
At th' walls of your own college.

Let the Rose with the Falcon moult,
While Sam enjoys his wishes;
The Dolphin, too, must cast her crown:
Wine was not made for fishes.

That sign a tavern best becomes,
That shows who loves wine best;
The Mitre's, then, the only sign,
For 'tis the scholar's crest.

Then drink sack, Sam, and cheer thy heart:
Be not dismay'd at all:
For we will drink it up again,
Though we do catch a fall.

We'll be thy workmen day and night,
In spite of bugbear proctors:
Before we drank like freshmen all,
But now we'll drink like doctors.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net