Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life.

How the Commencement grows new.

'TIs no Curranto-News I undertake, New Teacher of the Town I mean not to make, No New-England Voyage my Muse does intend, No new Fleet, no basd Fleet, nor bonny Fleet send: But if you'l be pleas'd to hear out this Ditty, I'll tell you some News as True and as Witty; And how the Commencement grows new.

See how the Simony-Doctors abound, All crowding to throw away forty pound: They'l now in their Wives Stammel Pettticoats va∣per Without any need of an Argument-Draper; Beholding to none, he neither beseeches This Friend for Ven'son, nor t'other for Speeches, And so the Commencement grows new.

Every twice a day the Teaching Gaffer Brings up his Easter-book to Chaffer: Nay some take Degrees, who never had Steeple, Whose Means, like Degrees, come from Placers of people▪ They come to the Fair, & at the first pluck, The Toll-man Barnaby strikes 'um good luck, And so, &c.

The Country Pa••sons they do not come up On Tuesday Night in their own College to Sup; Their Bellies and Table-Books equally full, The next Lecture-Dinner their Notes forth to pull: How bravely the Marg'ret••Professor Disputed, The Homilies urg'd, and the School••men Confuted? And so, &c.

The Inceptor brings not his Father, the Clown, To look with his Mouth at his Grogoram Gown; With like Admiration to eat Rosted Beef, Which Invention pos'd his Beyond-••rent-Belief; Who should he but hear our Organs once sound, Could scarce keep his Hoof from Sellenger's Round, And so, &c.

The Gentleman comes not to shew us his Satin, To look with some Judgment at him that speaks La∣tin; To be angry with him that makes not his Cloaths To answer, O Lord Sir, and talk Play-book-oaths, And at the next Bear-baiting (full of his Sack) To tell his Comrades our Discipline's slack. And so, &c.

We have no Prevaricator's Wit. Ay, marry Sir, when have you had any yet?

Besides no serious Oxford man comes To cry down the use of Jesting and Hums Our Ballad (believe't) is no stranger than true; Mum Salter is Sober, and Iack Martin too. And so the Commencement grows new.