Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/296

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
260
The WIFE of BATH.
He dy'd when last from pilgrimage I came,With other gossips, from Jerusalem;And now lies buried underneath a Rood,Fair to be seen, and rear'd of honest wood.A tomb, indeed, with fewer sculptures grac'd,Than that Mausolus' pious widow plac'd,Or where inshrin'd the great Darius lay;But cost on graves is merely thrown away.The pit fill'd up, with turf we cover'd o'er;So bless the good man's soul, I say no more.Now for my fifth lov'd Lord, the last and best;(Kind heav'n afford him everlasting rest)Full hearty was his love, and I can shewThe tokens on my ribs, in black and blew:Yet, with a knack, my heart he could have won,While yet the smart was shooting in the bone.How quaint an appetite in women reigns!Free gifts we scorn, and love what costs us pains:Let men avoid us, and on them we leap;A glutted market makes provision cheap.

In

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.