For better fruit did never orchard bear: Give me some slip of this most blissful tree, Then how two wives their lords' destruction prove, Thro' hatred one, and one thro' too much love; have slain, And some have hammer'd nails into their brain, But when no end of these vile tales I found, 296 THE POEMS OF POPE. But after many a hearty struggle past, I condescended to be pleas'd at last. 6 Soon as he said, My mistress and my wife! Now Heaven on all my husbands gone bestow Pleasures above for tortures felt below: That rest they wish'd for grant them in the grave, And bless those souls my conduct help'd to save! IMITATIONS OF ENGLISH POETS. CHAUCER. WOMEN ben full of ragerie, Yet swinken nat sans secresie. From schoole-boy's tale of fayre Irelond; |