London drollery, or, The wits academy being a select collection of the newest songs, lampoons, and airs alamode : with several other most ingenious peices [sic] of railery, never before published / by W.H.

Mounsieur Nihils New-Years-gift.

THe costly Callends put me to a shift, What I shall send you for my New-years-gift. 'Tis not what Ophir yields, nor Gems, nor Gold, I want not things that in th' Exchange are sold, Chains, Bracelets, Ear-rings, Rarities and Lawn, The curious works by holy Sisters drawn Are far above my reach to compass: so All that I have is nothing to bestow. Accept I pray the Gift, 't becomes you well, For you do nothing want as I can tell. Scorn not the present, look on't and you'l find 'Tis of much worth: nothing contents the mind, Nothing is happy, nothing is truly good, For nothing we pick quarrels and draw Blood. And though for nothing Lawyers plead not now, Yet about nothing they make much ado. Physitians of nothing, say the Disease is great, Yet if they nothing have, they'l soon retreat. Merchants think't nothing 'bout the world to sail, And nothing comes on't sometimes by an ill gale. The Rump-Parliament did nothing but mischief crave, Being Hang'd, 'twas nothing but what they did deserve. Gaming is good for nothing but Fight and Curse, Yet when all's gone, they think nothing worse.

Those that ill memories have, no patience want, When they forget all, they think nothing on't. Nothing is dearer than a Mistriss sight, Yet good for nothing when shees known to be Right. Nothing is sweeter then the new cropt Rose, Nothing is whiter then the Alpin Snows: Nothing is better than a trusty Friend, Yet nothing worse if Quarrel be at the end. Nothings so good as meat to a hungry Soul, Yet nothing worse, if poyson be i'th' bowl. Nothings like Wine, the heart to exhilerate, Yet nothing worse, if it be Sophisticate. Nothings in every Childs mouth that's unruly, Ask them what they did, I did nothing truly. So rare was nothing, that long since 'twas made Reward unto desert: so service was paid Richly with nothing: therefore do not grieve To wear this new-thing nothing on your Sleeve. Or if you think 'twill not become you there, Let then this nothing new dangle in your ear. So taking leave at Dover on the high-hill, I rest your Annihilated Friend Monsieur Nihil.