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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345640" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Sonnet Upon The Pitiful Burning Of The Globe Playhouse In</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now sit thee down, Melpomene,<br> Wrapp'd in a sea-coal robe,<br> And tell the doleful tragedy<br> That late was play'd at Globe;<br> For no man that can sing and say<br> But was scar'd on St. Peter's Day.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> All you that please to understand,<br> Come listen to my story,<br> To see Death with his raking brand<br> 'Mongst such an auditory;<br> Regarding neither Cardinal's might,<br> Nor yet the rugged face of Henry the Eight.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> This fearful fire began above,<br> A wonder strange and true,<br> And to the stage-house did remove,<br> As round as tailor's clew;<br> And burnt down both beam and snag,<br> And did not spare the silken flag.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Out run the knights, out run the lords,<br> And there was great ado;<br> Some lost their hats and some their swords,<br> Then out run Burbage too;<br> The reprobates, though drunk on Monday,<br> Prayed for the fool and Henry Condye.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The periwigs and drum-heads fry,<br> Like to a butter firkin;<br> A woeful burning did betide<br> To many a good buff jerkin.<br> Then with swoll'n eyes, like drunken Flemings,<br> Distressed stood old stuttering Hemings.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">...<br> Be warned, you stage strutters all,<br> Lest you again be catched,<br> And such a burning do befall<br> As to them whose house was thatched;<br> Forbear your whoring, breeding biles,<br> And lay up that expense for tiles.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Go draw you a petition,<br> And do you not abhor it,<br> And get, with low submission,<br> A license to beg for it<br> In churches, sans churchwardens' checks,<br> In Surrey and in Middlesex.<br> Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Americas">Anonymous Americas</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345640" data-title="A Sonnet Upon The Pitiful Burning Of The Globe Playhouse In de Anonymous Americas" data-description="Now sit thee down, Melpomene,
 Wrapp'd in a sea-coal robe,
 And tell the doleful tragedy
 That late was play'd at Globe;
 For no man that can sing and say
 But was scar'd on St. Peter's Day.
 Oh sorrow, pitiful sorrow, and yet all this is true.

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