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That were the few frail joys of mortal Life | That were the few frail joys of mortal Life | ||
Witht that first, and best - a | Witht that first, and best - a wedded wife | ||
Witht a wife, on whom thy soul might doat | Witht a wife, on whom thy soul might doat | ||
What were thy fate, O Man! or thine O Pote! | What were thy fate, O Man! or thine O Pote! | ||
Revision as of 06:11, 10 July 2017
An Epithalamium On the marriage of Mr Pole Bookseller at Eton to Miss Maria Kendall daughtr of Mr Kendall of the Christopher Inn. [7 flourishes]
That were the few frail joys of mortal Life Witht that first, and best - a wedded wife Witht a wife, on whom thy soul might doat What were thy fate, O Man! or thine O Pote!
Miss Mary Kendall, Kendall, now no more Kings to thy arms, of joys, a boundless store Had she been coy, in vain thy fortune made Sh'll hadst they ply'd the Typographic trade But ah! fair fate! nor cried she nor coy Rejects th' assents; winds catch the joyful note, She smiles, accepts, and weds the happy Pote! Need I relate how gay to Church they hied With looks of cordial comfort, side by side, And he the bridegroom was & She the bride How fine his cloths, how gorgeous she was seen Some say in pea, and some say in Kendal green