Sir John Harrington
Poems of Sir John Harrington
|1.||An Elegy Of A Pointed Diamond Given By The Author To His Wife At The Birth Of His Eldest Son||9/29/2010|
|4.||Of An Accident Of Saying Grace At The Lady Rogers Who Used To Dine Exceeding Late. Written To His Wife From Bath||9/29/2010|
|5.||On The Wares In Ireland||9/29/2010|
On The Wares In Ireland
I praised the speech, but cannot now abide it,
That warre is sweet to those that have not try'd it;
For I have proved it now and plainly see't,
It is so sweet, it maketh all things sweet.
At home Canaric wines and Greek grow lothsome;
Here milk is nectar, water tasteth toothsome.
There without baked, rost, boyl'd, it is no cheere;
Bisket we like, and Bonny Clabo here.
There we complain of one wan roasted chick;