│10│The boy who picks the arrows up, I shot right thro' │ Again │ │ │ the ear: │ │ │ │I'm sure he'd but himself to blame,—he stood so very │ │ │ │ near: │ │ │11│'Twas only just a hundred yards from where the target │ ☽ ♀ ♐ ♄ │ │ │ stood, │ │ │ │So how to help the hitting him would puzzle Robin │ │ │ │ Hood. │ │ │12│Altho' I'm sorry for the brat, I greatly pleas'd my │ who will │ │ │ spark, │ │ │ │Who thought me quite a heroine to shoot so near the │ │ │ │ mark. │ │ │13│So pr'ythee come, my dearest Coz, Diana's bow to draw,│deny, that │ │ │And join the gay Toxophilites who shoot at Beulah Spa.│ │ │14│ │ │ │ │ │ ♏ ♉ │ │15│Whit-Monday. │Now madcap Mirth, with reckless air, │ │ │ │ │ Sports down gay Pleasure's tide; │ _Juniper_ │ │16│Whit-Tuesday.│With every care cast to the winds, │ │ │ │ │ And all his _Wits-untied_. │hath a more│ │17│ │ │ │ │ │ malignant │ │18│ │ │ │ │ │ influence │ │19│ [Illustration] │ │ │ │ │ than │ │20│ │ │ │ │ │_Jupiter?_ │ │21│ │ │ │ │From Friars-Black and Chapel-White │ │ │22│ They rush to Greenwich Fair, │ ♅ ☉ ☊ ☽ │ │ │Each donkey-cart has its asses' load, │ │ │23│ Each chaise owns three a pair. │ │ │ │Some go by steam or sailing vessel, │ or, that, │ │24│Some by the _Elephant and Castle_. │ │ │ │ │ in the │ │25│The vent'rous see that famous hill, │ │ │ │ Renown'd for fate's decree, │olden times│ │26│That they who tarry at the top │ │ │ │ Shall soon the bottom see. │ of │ │ │ │ pugilism, │