Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/299
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The WIFE of BATH.
263
If e'er I slept, I dream'd of him alone,
And dreams foretel, as learned men have shown
All this I said; but Dream, sirs, I had none,
I follow'd but my crafty crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lye—and twenty more.
Thus day by day, and month by month we past;
It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last!
I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust,
And beat my breasts, as wretched widows—must.
Before my face my handkerchief I spread,
To hide the flood of tears I did—not shed.
The good man's coffin to the Church was born;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn.
But as he march'd, good Gods! he show'd a pair
Of legs and feet, so clean, so strong, so fair!
Of twenty winters age he seem'd to be;
I (to say truth) was twenty more than he;
But vig'rous still, a lively buxom dame;
And had a wond'rous gift to quench a flame.
And dreams foretel, as learned men have shown
All this I said; but Dream, sirs, I had none,
I follow'd but my crafty crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lye—and twenty more.
Thus day by day, and month by month we past;
It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last!
I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust,
And beat my breasts, as wretched widows—must.
Before my face my handkerchief I spread,
To hide the flood of tears I did—not shed.
The good man's coffin to the Church was born;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn.
But as he march'd, good Gods! he show'd a pair
Of legs and feet, so clean, so strong, so fair!
Of twenty winters age he seem'd to be;
I (to say truth) was twenty more than he;
But vig'rous still, a lively buxom dame;
And had a wond'rous gift to quench a flame.
A con-