Thomas Randolph Poems

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Thomas Randolph
Thomas Randolph (June, 1605 March, 1635), English poet and dramatist, was born near Daventry in Northamptonshire, and was baptized on June 18, 1605. He was the uncle of colonist William Randolph. He was educated at Westminster and at Trinity College, Cambridge. He took his B.A. degree in 1628, proceeded M.A. in 1632 and became a major fellow of his college in the same year. He soon gave promise as a writer of comedy. Ben Jonson, not an easily satisfied critic, adopted him as one of his "sons." He addressed three poems to Jonson, one on the occasion of his formal "adoption," another on the failure of The New Inn, and the third an eclogue, describing his own studies at Cambridge. He lived with his father at Little Houghton in Northamptonshire for some time, and afterwards with William Stafford of Blatherwycke, at whose house he died before completing his thirtieth year. He was buried in Blatherwycke church on March 17, 163435, and his epitaph was written by Peter Hausted, the author of The Rival Friends. Randolph's reputation as a wit is attested by the verses addressed to him by his contemporaries and by the stories attached to his name. His earliest printed work is Aristippus, Or, The Joviall Philosopher. Presented in a private shew, To which is added, The Conceited Pedlar (1630). It is a gay interlude burlesquing a lecture in philosophy, the whole piece being an argument to support the claims of sack against small beer. The Conceited Pedlar is an amusing monologue delivered by the pedlar, who defines himself as an "individuum vagum, or the primum mobile of tradesmen, a walking-burse or movable exchange, a Socratical citizen of the vast universe, or a peripatetical journeyman, that, like another Atlas, carries his heavenly shop on shoulders." He then proceeds to display his wares with a running satirical comment.

sea love
 
 
Tide be runnin' the great world over.
'Twas only last June month I mind that we
Was thinki... [read poem]
little ditties i
 
 
Winifred Waters sat and sighed
Under a weeping willow;
When she went to bed she cried,... [read poem]
polly
 
 
Brown eyes,
Straight nose;
Dirt pies,
Rumpled clothes;

Torn books... [read poem]
an ode to master anthony stafford, to hasten him into the country
 
 
Come, spur away!
I have no patience for a longer stay;
But must go down,
And ... [read poem]
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