Richard Lovelace

(1618-1657 / London / England)

A Mock Charon. Dialogue - Poem by Richard Lovelace


W. Charon! thou slave! thou fooll! thou cavaleer!
CHA. A slave! a fool! what traitor's voice I hear?
W. Come bring thy boat. CH. No, sir. W. No! sirrah, why?
CHA. The blest will disagree, and fiends will mutiny
At thy, at thy [un]numbred treachery.
W. Villain, I have a pass which who disdains,
I will sequester the Elizian plains.
CHA. Woes me, ye gentle shades! where shall I dwell?
He's come! It is not safe to be in hell.

Thus man, his honor lost, falls on these shelves;
Furies and fiends are still true to themselves.

CHA. You must, lost fool, come in. W. Oh, let me in!
But now I fear thy boat will sink with my ore-weighty sin.
Where, courteous Charon, am I now? CHA. Vile rant!
At the gates of thy supreme Judge Rhadamant.

Welcome to rape, to theft, to perjurie,
To all the ills thou wert, we canot hope to be;
Oh, pitty us condemned! Oh, cease to wooe,
And softly, softly breath, least you infect us too.

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Read poems about / on: rape, lost, fear, hope

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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