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To the Lady of Newcastle, upon her Book In∣tituled, The WORLD'S OLIO.
THE World, to the World's Olio, we invite you,
And hope these several Cates they may delight you,
It is the Mistris of the Feast her Wish,
And all these various Sorts cookt in Wits Dish;
For several Palats here is of the Best,
With Aromatick Spice of Phancy drest,
With wholsom Herbs of Judgment, for the Tast
Healthfull and Nourishing. This Dish will last
To Feast your Nephews all, if you can fit
The Marriage Act, to get your Children Wit:
For stronger Stomachs Ven'son; if that fail,
And you grow Queasy, then the Lady Quail,
Or the plump Partridge, tast the Phesant, do,
Thus feast your Souls, the Bodies look you too.
An Olio of Confections, not refrain;
For here's a Sumptuous Banquet for your Brain:
And this Imaginary Feast pray try,
Censure your worst, so you the Book will buy.