A Song.
Three merry ladds met at the Rose
To speak the praises of the Nose,
The nose which stands in middle place
Sets out the beauty of the face;
The nose with which we have begunne,
Will serve to make our verses runne,
Invention often barren growes;
But still their's matter in the nose.
The nose is of so high a price,
That men prefer't before their eyes;
And no man counts him for his friend,
That boldly takes his nose by the end.
The nose that like Euripus flows,
The sea that did the wiseman pose.
Invention, &c.
The nose is of as many kinds,
As mariners can reckon winds,
The long, the short, the nose displayd;
The great nose which did fright the maid;
The nose through which the brother-hood
Did parley for their sisters good.
Invention, &c.