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Epistle From Esopus To Maria

Rating: 5.0

FROM those drear solitudes and frowsy cells,
Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells;
Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast,
And deal from iron hands the spare repast;
Where truant 'prentices, yet young in sin,
Blush at the curious stranger peeping in;
Where strumpets, relics of the drunken roar,
Resolve to drink, nay, half, to whore, no more;
Where tiny thieves not destin'd yet to swing,
Beat hemp for others, riper for the string:

From these dire scenes my wretched lines I date,
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Saturday, October 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: letter
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 07 April 2020

The idiot strum of Vanity bemus'd, And even the abuse of Poesy abus'd? — Who called her verse a Parish Workhouse, made For motley foundling Fancies, stolen or strayed? .. very fine poem. tony

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