Upon Glass. Epig

Glass, out of deep, and out of desp'rate want,
Turn'd from a Papist here a Predicant.
A vicarage at last Tom Glass got here,
Just upon five and thirty pounds a year.
Add to that thirty-five but five pounds more,
He'll turn a Papist, ranker than before.

Robert Herrick The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.