Maggots, or, Poems on several subjects, never before handled by a schollar.

A Full and True Account of a Jour∣ney with its Appurtenances.

^a NOw Heav'ns jolly Carman left weeping and whining, Scrubb'd up Sunday face, and fell fairly a shining;

The Cits are alive, and to—they run, As Flyes from a Cow-turd will swarm in the Sun. Spouse Rampant takes Arms, Coucht Cuckold she tells, He must get her a place to go visit the Wells; Not a Pothecaryes Wife that is leaving the Town, But will pawn all her Glyster-pipes for a new Gown. 'Tis the Devil that drives, and needs Travel they must; A long comes the Coachman with Bring out your Dust! So sweet is his Load, and so neat, and so pure, Yo••'d swear he was under-commission'd i'th' Sewer. Not a Fop of the Pit, or a Jilt o' the Box, ^b But dresses, and crawls to the Wells with a Pox; So throughly the Waters have purg••d all the City, ^c That They 're strangely reform'd, and grown civil, and Witty. Least the Dunns my poor Carcass to pieces should tare, I••ll ene like my Betters take Sanctuary there; For melting, or getting, or spunging a Penny, As poor, and as dull, and as sawcy as any.

But the walks were bepester'd with Cravat, and Fan, And Beaver, and Wigg, and sometimes a Man: For curing old Aches, and getting new pains; For cooling and heating the blood and the reins. Old Sol from Aurora's Alcove newly peeping, While more than three Quarters lay grunt∣ing and sleeping: When routed Cravat-string, and Ruffles I'd rally'd, From Dog-hole of Lodging one Morning I sally'd, I walkt, and I strutted along like the rest, And I thought hard of nothing as well as the best; Till a Bevey of Ladys swum hastily by, All finer than ••ippence, they dazz••'d my Eye. I follow the Track, and the Vision pursue, Meditation farewel, now the Game is in view: Tho' I quickly got up they were enter'd be∣fore, And cruelly shut the unmerciful Door. Tho' my Eyes kept a Fast, yet my Ears I could treat, And yours shall take part while the Tale I repeat▪

But Madam, sayes one, while They 're chatting together, If one may be so bold, pray what Wind blew you hither? She replyes, with a Sigh drawn up to her Chin, 'Tis a weakness, Obstructions, and weakness within. My Husband's as likely a Man as you 'll see, A Man every Inch of him, take it from me! Ay and I'll assure ye—&c. Nay! never despair, Madam, 'tis not too late: Your changing of pasture may make you grow fat; I speak by experience, stay here but a Little, And I warn't you return as round as a Kettle. No doubt on't, says one, but if ever she will, She must take a good dose of a Soverain Pill, That cured me—Hold there says the next, I deny't t'ye; ^d I was helpt by some drops of Specimen vitae. They stirr'd, and I fled for my Ears, and my Eyes, Since a noble Retreat with a Victory vyes! I retired in spight of my Foes and my Fears, And bravely brought off both my Eyes and my Ears.

Now Reader, by a Figure which Poets may use, Pray suppose it is Evening!—If you wont you may chuse. As Lasses and Lads do advance in Decorum, When Crowder at Christmass hops squeak∣ing before 'em; So Tag-Rag, and Bob-tail to dancing do throng, And th' Flower of—come flaming along. Here a Hell-full of Hogo's comes driving just on us, ^e Let's get the wind side on't, or Mercy upon us; A Plague's on the Green, and it newly arose From—Some-body's—powerful Armpits and Toes. Have a care of the Lad with his hair in his Hat, As you value his anger touch not his Cravat! Pray keep your distance, with Reverence stand, If you ruffle his Ruffles, his Cane is at hand. Sirrah Iack! rub my Shoes with the Nap∣kin, with Care, Your Master commands you, refuse if you dare:

Unmannerly Winds the sweet Curls to dis∣place Of so pretty, so lovely, so charming a Face! But hang a good Face, that's a womanish toy, Give me such a shape as this Lad does enjoy! But speak not a word as you value your life, Of his Buttocks and Shoulders, and the thing call'd his Wife! If you love your own Ribs, stand further good Friends, Room, Room for a Pudding ty'd up at both Ends! Whose goodly large Belly struts crowding before him, No less than a Lady behind does adore him. Make much of him, Madam, and use him in haste, Or quickly his Service alas will be past; For if half an inch further his Paunch does but come, ^f You must e'ne be content with the deaf and the dumb. Here creeping and cringing to a thing of a Fortune, That weighs fifteen thousand, stands hope∣ful young What-d'ye-call-him! And e're he does live on the Land, 'tis but reason If he take for Security Liv'ry and Seisin.

A Knighthood comes next with a finical face, And a couple of Arms which he moves with that Grace, That he thinks his deserts will ha' cursed ill hap, If some Lady Fair don't fall in his Lap. Now the sport is all over, all travel that can To the place whence they came, with their Whore and their Man; And I when my Guinys and Credit were spent Sneakt home in the Crowd, like a Fool as I went.