The loyal garland containing choice songs and sonnets of our late unhappy revolutions, very delightful and profitable, both to this present, and future ages / published by S.N. a lover of mirth.

THE LOYAL GARLAND.

Upon defacing of White-hall.

WHat Booker doth prognosticate Concerning Kings or Kingdoms state, I think my self to be as wise, As some that gazeth on the skyes: My skill goes beyond, the depth of a Pond, Or Rivers in the greatest rain, Whereby I can tell, all things will be well, When the King enjoys his own again.

2. There's neither Swallow, Dove, nor Dade, Can soa•• more high, or déeper wade; Nor shew a reason from the stars, What causeth Peace or Civil Wars: The man in the Moon, may wear out his shoo'n By runing after Charls his Wain, But all's to no end, for the times will not mend Till the King, &c.

3. Full forty years this Royal Crown Hath béen his fathers and his own: And is there any one but He, That in the same should sharers be▪

For who better may, the Scepter sway, Thau he that hath such right to reign? Then let's hope for a peace, for the Wars will not cease Till the King enjoys, &c.

4. Though for a time we sée White-hall With Cobweb-hangings on the wall, In stead of gold and silver brave, Which formerly 'twas wont to have, With rich perfume in every room, Delightful to that Princely Train, Which again shall be, when the time you see, That the King enjoys, &c.

5. Did Walker no predictions lack In Hammonds bloody Almanack? Foretelling things that would ensue, That all proves right, if lies be true: But why should not he, the pillory foresée, Wherein poor Toby once was ta'ne? And also foreknow, to'th Gallows he must go, When the King enjoys, &c.

6. Then avaunt upon thy hill, My hope shall cast his Anchor still, Vntill I sée some peaceful * 1.1 Dove, Bring home the Branch I dearly love: Then will I wait till the waters abate, Which most disturbs my troubled brain, Else never rejoyce till I hear the voice, That the King enjoys his own again.

The Loyal Soldier.

WHen in the field of Mars we lye, Amongst those Martial wights, Who never daunted are to dye For King and Country's Rights, As on Belona's God I wait, & her attendant be, Yet being absent from my mate, I live in mi∣sery

2. When lofty winds aloud do blow, It snoweth, hail, or rain, And Charon in his boat doth row, Yet stedfast I'le remain, And for my shelter in some barn créep, Or under some Hedge lye, The Round-heads which strong Castles kéep, Knows no such misery.

3. When down in straw we tumbling lye, With Morpheus charms asléep, My heavy, sad and mournful eye, In security so déep, Then do I dream within my arms With thá: I sporting lye, Then do I dread, or fear no harms, Nor féel no misery.

4. When all my joys are thus compleat; The Cannons loud do play, The Drums alarum strait do beat, Trumpet sounds, Horse, away, Awake I then, and nought can finde

But death attending me, And all my joys are vanisht quire, This is my misery.

5 When hunger oftentimes I féel, And water cold do drink, Yet from my Colours I'le not steal, Nor, from my KING will shrink: No Traitor base shall make me pield, But for the Cause I'le be: This is my love, pray Heaven to shield, And fare wel misery.

6. Then to'our Arms we straight do flie, And forthwith marcth away, Few Towns or Cities we come nigh, Good liquor us deny: In Letho déep, our woes we stéep, Our Loves forgotten be, Amongst the Iovialists we Sing, Hang up all misery.

7. Propitious Fate then be more kinde, Grim death lend me thy Dart; O Sun and Moon, and eks the Wind, Great Jove take▪ thou our part, That of these Round-heads and these wars, An end that we may sée, And thy great Name wée'l all applaud; And hang all misery.

The Holly-Bush.

CLear the eyes of the Watch, Lazy sléep we dispatch, From hence as far as Dep••bford, For your: Flock-beds and your Feather Wée'l expose to the weather, And hang all the shéets on the Bed-cord.

Then sleep, sleep, and enjoy your beds, You quiet drowsie heads, May the Furies of the night, Scarlet Fleas you affright,

And pinch you black and yellow, But the plump brawny Lowse Scorns the shelter of the house, Oh! he's the Soldiers fellow.

2. Some the Night-more hath prest With a weight on their brest, The returns of their breath cannot pass; But with us the Tale is addle, We can take off the saddle, And turn out the Night-mare to grass, Then sleep, &c.

3. Now no more will we hark To the charms of the Lark, Nor the times of the early Thrush. All the birds shall retire, And submit to the Quire Of we bo••es in the Holy-bush, Then sleep, &c.

4. When the Countrey Lass With her Dayry doth pass, Our joys no tongue can utter: For we Centinel stand, And exact by command, The excize of her lips and butter. Then sleep, &c.

The Independent Red-coat.

COme drawer, come fil us about more wine let us merrily tipple, the day is our own We'l have our delights, let the country go pine Let the King and the Kingdoms groan: For the day is our own, and so shall continue, whilst Monarchy we baffie quite, Wée'l spend all the Kingdoms Revenue, and sacrifice all to de light: 'Tis power that brings us all to be ••ings, and we'l be all crown'd by our might.

2. A fig for Divinity, Lecture, and Law, and all that to Royalty do pretend, We wil by our sword kéep the kingdoms in aw and our power shall never have end: The Church & the State we'l turn into liquor, and spend a whole town in a day, Wée'l melt all their bodkins the quicker into Sack, and so drink them away, We'l spend the demeans o'ch bishops & deans, and over the Presbyter sway.

3. The nimble St. Patrick is sunk in a bog, & his countrey-men sadly cry, oh hone, oh hone St. Andrew and's Kirk-men are lost in a fog, and we are the Saints alone: Thus on our superiors and equals we trample whilst Iockey the stirroy shall hold, The Citys our Mule for example, while we thus in plenty are roll'd, Each delicate dish shall but answer our wish, and our drink shall be cordial Gold.

On the London-Pamphleteers.

My quil shal not judg, nor so much as grudg at the gains of a great Commander, Ile onely have to do with an impudent crew, made up of money and slander: Old Nick rules the roast of the rotten London post, which in time hée'l overturn all, The same spirit guides, and craftily confides, with the Diary and Diurnal.

Lo now, where do you think Boyes, lies all the Chink? Oh the Devil hugs many a Darling. Here's a List of the Curs, and many Revolters, That hath buried ten thousand starling.

2. Politicus was rifled, and sooner rob'd than for truth, though he tells but little: stifled Civicus ea••s béef, before whose relief, was writ down fasting spittle,

Brittannicus doth look for a Massy-book, which standeth against all reason. Each line doth it rot, and stain with a blot of high and abominable Treason. Lo now, &c.

3. The Parliament-Scout, in luck find him o•••• with his brethren birds together, Who hath vented more lies, than stars in the skies, or drops in a years wet weather. The sawcy Oxford-Spy, was but one entire l•••• and the Phamphletéers in the Star-nest, Is gone before to hell, the News for to tell, and the Devil detains him for earnest. Lo now, &c.

4 Here's two ballad-men, have got well by these pen, who can both write and well sing, One as round as a hoop, 's made Captain oft Troop, t'other gapes for a place under Elsynge. Here's a curld pated lout, who cries books about is grown such a grand deceiver, That by the very sale of the Spectacle Tale, he hath purchased a new fashion Bever. Lo now, &c.

5. Here's an old rotten quean, whose smock's very mean, which us'd to cry Marp-bones, Is marri'd to the led for the mony that he had and now kéeps a Press of their own. Lo uow, &c.

The Soldiers delight.

FAir Phydelia, tempt no more, I may not now thy beauty so adore; Nor offer to thy shrine, I serve one more divine, and greatre far than you: Hark, the Trumpet calls away, We must ••o, lest the foe get the field, and win the day, Then mar••h bravely on, charge them in the Van, Our Cause Gods is, though the odds is, ten times ten to one.

2. Tempt no more I may not yield, although thine eyes a kingdom may surprize Leave oft thy wanton tales, The High-born Prince of Wales is mounted in the field, Where the the Lopal Gentry flock, though forlorn, nobly born, Of a ne're decaying stock: Cavaliers be hold, ne're let go your hold, Those that loirers; are by traitors méerly bought and sold.

Phyl.

3. One kiss more, and so farewell:

Sold.

Fie, no more, I prithée fool give ore, Why cloud 'st thou thus thy beams? I sée by these extreams,

a woman's heaven or hell: Pray the King may have his own, that the Quéen may be séen, With her Babes on Englands Throne, Rally up your men, one shall vanquish ten, Victory, we come to try our valor once age••••.

The Time-server: Or, a Medley.

ROom for a Gamester y^t plays at al he sée whose fickle fancy fits such tims as the•••• One that says Amen to ev'ry factious propte from Hugh Peters pulpit to St. Peters Cha••e One that doth defie the croster and the Crowe but yet can bouze with blades that carrou•••• whilst Pottle pots tumble down, very down One that can comply with Surplice and with Clo•• yet for his end can Independ whilst Presbyterian brolce Brittains yoke.

2. This is the way to trample without trem∣bling 'tis the Sycophant's onely secure, Covenants and oaths are badges of dissembling 'tis the politick put's down the pure: To profess and betray, to plunder and pray, Is the ••nely ready way to be great, flattery doth the feat: Ne're go, ne're stir, will venture further Than the greatest Dons in the town, from a Copper to a Crown.

3. I am in a temp'rate humor now to think we

Now I'm in another humor for to drink well, Then fill us up a Béer-bowl boys, that we May drink it merrily, No knavish Spy shall understand, For if it should be known, 'Tis ten to one we shal be trappan'd.

4. I'le drink to thée a brace of quarts, Whose Anagram is call'd True Hearts, If all were well as I would ha't, and Brittain cur's of its tumor, I should very well like my fate, And drink my Sack at a cheaper rate, without any noise or tumor. oh then I should fix my humor.

5. But since 'tis no such matter, change your hue I may ••og and flatter, so may you: Religion is a widgeon, and reason is treason, and he that hath a loyal heart may bid the world adieu.

6. We must be like the Scottish man, who with intent to beat down Schism, Brought in the Presbyterian, with Cannon and with Catechism: If Beuk ••oon't do't, then Jockey shoot, for the Kirk of Scotland doth command, And what hath bin, since they came in, I think we have cause to understand.

The Royalist and Round-head.

STay, shut the Gate, T'other quart, faith 'tis not so late as your thinking, The stars which you sée in the Hemisphere •••• Are but studs in your chéeks by good drinking▪ The suns gone to tipple al night in y^e sea boy•• Tomorrow he'l blush that he's paler than •••• boy••▪ Drink wine, give him water, 'tis Sack makes us the boys.

2. Fill up the Glass, To the next merry Lad let it pass, come away wit: Let's set foot to foot, & but give our minds ••o'•• 'Tis heretical Sir: that doth stay wit, then hang up good faces, lets drink til our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Gives fréedom to speak, w^t our fanty disposes, Beneath whose protection now under the rose is

3. Drink off your Bowl, 'Twill enrich both your head and your soul with Canary: For a Carbuncl••d face saves a tedious race, And the Indies about us we carry: No Helicon like to the juice of good wine is, For Phebus had never had wit that divine i•• Had his face not béen dow dy'd as thine is, and mine is.

4. This must go round,

Off with your hats til y^e pavement be crown'd with your Bevers, A red coated face frights a Sergeant and his mare whilst thē constables trembles to shive••s In state march our facs like some of y^e quorum While the whores do fall down, and the vulgar abore um And our noses like Link-boys run shining be∣fore •• m.

The answer.

HOld, quaff no more, But restore, If you can what you 've lost by your drinking, Thrée kingdoms and Crowns, with their Cities and Towns, While the King and his Progeny's sinking: The studs in your chéeks have obscured his Star, boys, Your drink and miscarriages in the late war boys, Hath brought his Prerogative thus to the Bar boys,

2. Through down the Glass, He's an ass That extracts all his worth from Canary: That valour will shrink, which is onely good in drink, Twas the Cup made the Camp to miscarry: Ye thought in the world there was no power could tame ye,

Ye tipled and whor'd till the foe overcame •••• Cuds-nigs and Ne're-stir Sir, hath vanquish God-dam-me.

3. Flie from the coast, Dry' are lost, And the water will run where the drink went, From thence you must slink, If you swear, and have no chink, 'tis the Curse of a Royal Delinquent. Ye love to sée Béer, bowls turn'd over y^e thumb∣well, Ye love thrée fair Gamesters, four Dice, and a Drum well, But you'd as lieve sée the Devil as Olive-Cromwel

4. Drink not the round, You'l be drown'd In the source of your Sa••k and your Sonneth Try once more your fate, For the Kirk against the State, and go barter your Bevers for Bonnets: I sée how you'r charm'd by your female in∣chanters, And therefore pack hence to Virginia for plan∣ters For an Act and two Red-coats will rout all the Ranters.

The Lord Gerards Mistriss.

BE gone thou fatal Fever, From me now be gone, Let Love alone, Let his Atherial slames possess my brest:

The help of my consuming heat, No aid requires, But swift destres, Transfers my passion to a throne of rest; Where I, who never in the pride of health could finde such warmth to move, By sickness tam'd, and so inflam'd, I féel no joys like Love: But he, who trisled many a tedious hour away my Love to try, In little space hath gain'd the grace, to have more power than I.

2. Depart thou fatal Fever, From me now depart, Think not my heart To thy dull flames shall be a sacrifice; A Maid, dread Cupid, now is on thy Altar laid by thée betraid, A rich oblation to restore thine eyes: But yet nay forc't acknowledgment can testifie thou hast no craft, To bend thy bow against a foe that aims to catch thy shaft: Nor do I fear thine arrows, though they all at once 'gainst me do flie, She that receives ten thousand sheaves, can love no more than I.

3. No more, Physitians Try your skills no more,

Pray give me ore, I have a cure in physick seldom read; Though you are skilful Doctors, All the world doth know In learning flow, You may as well go practise on the dead, But if my Gerard please to grace me with the glory of his looks, I make no doubt to live without Phystrians and their books. Tis he who with his balming kisses can restore my dying breath, What bliss is this, to gain a kiss, to save a maid from death!

4. To you that tell us, Of another world I vow, And do allow Your sacred precepts, if you'l grant me this, That he whom I adore next to the Diety, may go with me, Without whose presence there can be no bliss; Go teach your Tenets of Eternity, to those that aged be, Pray nere perswade a Love-sick Maid, there's any heaven but he: But stay, methinks a nicy flumber hath possest my wearied brain, Pray bid him die, if you think I shall never wake again.

The Scornful Lover.

LOve thée, good faith not I, I have som••thing else to do, Alas, you mu•••• go learn to talk, before you learn to wooe, Nay fie, stand off, go too, go too.

2. Because you are in the fashion, and newly come to Court, You think: your Cloaths are Orators to invite us to the sport, Aha, we do but jéer you for't.

3. Nor look so swéetly youth, not fiddle with your Band, We know you trim your borrowed locks to shew your pretty hand, You are to•• young for to command.

4. Or who so confident, because that lately ye, Have brought another complement unto our Pedigr••••, Thy inside séems the worse to me.

5. Sée where Sir Sworham goes, I marry, theres your wit, He cares not what he says or does, So Ladies laugh at it, Who can deny such Lads a bit?

Upon an Act for Treason.

BUt since it was lately enacted high Trease••▪ For a man to speak truth 'gainst the head of a State. Let every wise man make use of his reason, to think what he will, but take héed what he pra••e For the Proverb doth learn us, he that stayes from the battel sléeps in a whole skin, And our words are our own, if wée kéep them within What fools are we then that to praitle do be∣gin of things that do nor concern us?

2. 'Tis no matter to the whoere gets the battel the Tubs or the Crosses, 'tis all one to me, It neither increaseth my goods nor my cattel, A beggar's a beggar, and so he shall be; Vnless he turn Traitor, Let misers take courses to hoard up their trea∣sure, whose bounds have no limits, whose minds have no measure, Let me be but quiet, and take a little pleasure, a little contents my own nature.

3. But what if the Kingdom returns to one of the Prime ones? My mind is a Kingdom, and so it shall be, i'le make it appear, i•• I had but the time once He's as happy in one, as they are in thrée, if he might but enjoy it:

He that's mounted aloft, is a mark for the fate, and an envy to every pragmatical pate, Whilst he that is low is safe in his estate. and the great ones do scorn to annoy him.

4. I count him no wit that is gifted in rayling and flur••ing at those that above himdo sit, Whilst they do out-wit him with whipping and goaling, His purse und his person must pay for his wit; but 'tis better to be drinking, If Sack were reformed to twelve pence a quart I'd study for mony to merchandize for't, With a friend that is willing in mi••th we would sport, Not a word; but we'd pay it with thinking.

5. My petition shall be that Canary be cheaper without either Custom, or cursed Exci••e, That the Wits may have fréedom to drink déeper and déeper, And not be undone whilst our Noses we bap∣tize, But we'l liquor them, and drench them, if this were but granted, who would not de∣sire To dub himself one of Apollo's own Quire? and then we will drink whilst ••ur Noses are on fire And the quart-pots shall be Buckets to quench them.

A Song upon a Recanting Lover.

SUre 't was a dream, how long, fond man have I béen fool'd into captivity? my Newgate was my want of wit, I did my self commit, my bonds I knit, I my ••wn Iaplor was, mine onely foe, Which did my fréedom disollow, I was a Prisoner, cause I would be so.

2. 'Twas a sine life I liv'd, when I did dress my self to court your ••évishness, When I did at your footst••ol lye, expecting from your eye, to live or die. Now frowns or smiles, I care not which I have for rather tha•• I'le be your s••ave, I'le court the Gods to send me to my grave.

3. Farewel those charms y^t did so long bewitch, farewel that wanton youthful itch, Farewel that treacherous blinking boy, which proffer'd séeming joy for to destroy; Farewel those nights of pleasure, and to you, which were well known were not a few, For ever, ever, evermore adieu.

4. Now I can stand thé Salleys of your eyes, in vain are all your Batteries, Nor can that low dissembling style, nor that be witched smile longer beguile, Nor those heart-traps which you each hour re∣new, to all those witch-crafts, and to you,

For ever, evermore I bid adieu.

5. Now will I shake off those chains, & prove opinion built the Goal of Love, Made all his bonds, gave him his vow, his broken arrows too which murder so, Nay all those Fancies, which as Lovers dream were all compos'd to make a Theam, For some carrousing Poets drunken flame.

Of Titulary Honor.

NAy préethée don't flye me, But sit thée down by me, For I cannot endure the man that's demure, a pox on your Worships and Sirs: For your Congées and tricks, with your Legs and your Lips, Your Madams and Lords, and such finical words, And the Complement you bring, That doth spell nothing, you may kéep for the Chains and the Furs, For at the beginning was neither Peasant nor Prince, And who the Devil made the distinction since?

2. Those Titles of Honors, do remain in the Donors, And not in that thing, to which they do cling, If his ••••oul be too narrow that wears them,

no delight can I sée In the thing call'd degrée; honest Dick sounds as well As a name with an L, that with Titles do swell, And hums like a Bell, to affright mortal ears that do hear 'um: He that wears a brave soul, & dares honestly do is a Herald to himself, and a Godfather too.

3. Why should we then dote on, one with a Fools coat on, Whose Coffers are tramm'd, but yet he'l be damn'd Ere he'l do a good act, or a wise one? what reason hach he To be ruler o're me, who is Lord o're his Chest, But his head and his breast are but empty and bare, And pufft up with air, and can neither assist, nor advise one: Honor's but air, and proud flesh but dust is, 'tis the Commons make the Lords, as the Clerk makes the Justice.

4. But since we must be of a different degrée, 'Cause most do aspire, to be greater and higher Than the rest of their fellows and brothers,

he that hath such a spirit, Let him gain't by his merit, spend his wit, wealth, and blood, For his Countrey's good, and make himself fit, By his valor and wit, for things above the reach of all others: Honor's a prize, and who wins it may wear it if not, 'tis a badge and a burthen to bear it.

5. For my part let me be but quiet and frée, I'le drink Sack and obey, let the great ones sway, That spend their whole time in thinking; I'le not busie my pate, With the matters of State, the News-books Ile burn all, And with the Diurnal▪ light Tobacco, and admit, They are so far sit, for to serve good company, and drinking: All the name I desire is an honest good fellow, And that man has no worth, that wont sometimes be mellow.

The new Droll.

COme lets drink, the time invites, winter and cold weather, For to spend away long nights,

and to kéep good wits together, Better far than Cards and Di••e, Ise Balls art quaint device, Made up with Fan and Feather.

2. Of strange actions on the Seas, why should we be jealous? Bring us liquor that will please, and will make us braver fellows Than the bold Venetian Fléet, when the Turks and they do méet Within their Dardanello's.

3. Valencian that famous Town, stood the French-mans wonder, Water they imployed to drown, so to cut their Troops in sunder, Turein gave a helpless look, while the lofty Spaniard took La Ferta, and his plunder.

4. As for water we disclaim, mankind's adversary, Once it caus'd the worlds whole frame in the Deluge to miscarry; And that enemy of Joy, which sought our fréedom to destroy, And murther good Can ary

5. We that drink have no such thoughts, black and void of Reason, We take care to •••••• our Vaults

with gold wine of every season; And with many a Chirping Cup, We blow one another up, and that's our onely treason.

6. Hear the Squibs, and mind the Bells the fifth of November, The Parson a sad story tells, and with horror doth remember, How some hot-brain'd Traitor wrought Plots that would have ruine brought to King, and every Member.

On the New-found Wells.

WE will go no more to Tunbridge Wels, the Journey is so far, Nor ride in Epsom waggons, where our bodies tumbled are: But we'l to Westwood waters go, the best that e're you saw, And from henceforth we'l have it call'd, The New-found English Spaw, Then go Lords and Ladies what ere you all, go thither all that pleases; For it will cure you without fail, of old and new Diseases.

2. Thither the country people thrust by day, and eke by night, And for to fill their Bottles first, they scramble, scratch, and fight;

But when the Gentry thither come, and people of good fashion, There is presented to their view, a fair accommodation. Then go Lords, &c.

3. Joans was the first hole was found out, my Ladies hole ne•••• after, Yet when you taste, you are in doubt which is the better water: But so it is, my Ladies Hole, doth stand so near to Joan, That if the people be too rude, they may break both holes into one. Then go Lords, &c.

4. It purgeth your Ladies bodies clean, by stool and urine too, 'T will make you have a stomach to't whither you will or no: Then you may step among the furs, a sitting place to finde, 'T will make you o••e, and shut your purse, before and eke behind.

The silly Shepherd.

A Silly shepheard woo'd, but wist not how he might his Mistriss favor gain, On a time they met, but kist not, ever after that he sued in vain: Blame her not, alas, though she said nay

to him that might, but fled away.

2. Time perpetually is changing, every moment alteration brings, Love and beauty still estranging, women are alas but wanton things, He that will his Mistriss favor gain, must t••ke her in a merry vain.

3. A womans fancy's like a Fever, or an Ague that doth come by fits, Hot and cold, but constant never, even as the pleasant humor hits: Sick, and well again, and well and sick, in love it is a womans trick.

4. Now she will and then the will not, put her to the tryal, if once she smile: Silly youth, thy fortunes spill not, lingring labors oft themselves beguile, He that knocks, and can't get in, his Pick-lock is not worth a pin.

5. A womans Nay is no denial, silly youths of Love are served so, Put her to a further tryal, Happily shée'l take it, and say no; For it is a trick which women use, what they love, they will refuse.

6. Silly youth why doest thou da••ly? having got time and season fit, Then never stand, swéet, shall I? shall I?

nor too much commend an after wit; For he that will not when he may, when he will, he shall have nay.

On the Goldsmiths Committee.

COme Drawer, so me wine, or we'l pul down the Sign, For we are all Jovial Compounders: We'l make the house ring With Healths to our KING, and confusion light on his Confounders.

2. Since Goldsmiths-Committee Affords us no pity, out sorrows in wine w••ewil I sléep'um; They force us to take Two Oaths, but we'l make a third that we ne're mean to kéep'um.

3. And next who e're sées We'l drink on our knées to the King, may he thirst that repines; A fig for those Traitors That look to our waters, they have nothing to do with our wines.

4. And next here's a Cup To the Quéen, fill it up, were it poyson we would make an end on't: May Charles and shée méet, And tread under féet, both Presbyter and Independent.

5. To the Prince, and all others, His Sisters and Brothers, as low in condition, as high born, We'l drink this, and pray, That shortly they may sée all them that wrongs them at Tyborn

6. And next here's thrée Bo••ls, To all gallant Souls, that for the King did, and will venture, May they flourish when those That are his and our foes, are hang'd and ram'd down to the Center.

7. And next let a Glass To our Vndoers pass, attended wich two or thrée curses, May plagues sent from hell, Stuff their bodies as well, as the Cavaliers coyn doth their purses.

8. May the Cannibals of Pym, Eat them up limb by limb, or a hot Feaver scorch'um to embers, Pox kéep 'um in bed, Vntill they are dead, and repent for the loss of their Members.

9. And may they be found In all to a bound, both with heaven and the countreys anger, May they never want Fractions,

Doubts, Fears, and Distractions, till the Gallow-trée choaks them from dan∣ger.

In praise of Brewers.

THere's many a clinking verse was made in honour of the Blacksmiths trade, But more of the Brewers may be said, which no body can deny.

2. I néed notight else but this repeat, The Blacksmith cannot be compleat, Vnless the Brewer do give him a heat, which no body can deny.

3. When Smug unto his Forge doth come, Vnless the Brewer do liquor him home, Could nere stirike my pot and thy pot Tom, which no body, &c.

4. Of all Professions in the town, This Brewers trade did gain renown, His liquor once reacht up to the Crown, which no body, &c.

5. Much Royal blood from him did spring, Of all the trades this was the King, The Brewer had got the world in a sling, which no body, &c.

6. Though Honour be a Princes daughter, The Brewer will wooe her in blood and slaugh∣ter, And win her, or else it shall cost him hot water, which no body, &c.

7. He fear'd no power, nor martial stops, But whipt Armies as round as tops, And cut ••ff his foes as thick ashops, which no body, &c.

8. He di••'d for riches down to the bottom, And cri'd, my Masters, when he had got'um, Let every Tub stand on his own bottom, which no body, &c.

9. In war like Arts he scorn'd to stoop, For when his party began to droop, He'd bring them all up as round as a hoop▪ which no body, &c.

10. The Iewish Scots who fear to eat The flesh of Swine, our Brewers beat, I was the sight of their Hogsheads made them to retreat, which no body, &c.

11. Poor Jockey and his Basket-hilt Was beaten, and much Blood was spilt, When their bodies like barrels did run a tilt, which no body, &c.

12. Though Jemmy did give the first assault, The Brewer he made them at length to hault, And gave them what the cat left in the mault, which no body, &c.

13. They did not onely bang the Kirk, But in Ireland too they did as much work,

'tWas the Brewer made them surrender Cork, which no body, &c.

14. This was a stout Brewer, of whom we may brag, But since he was hurried away with a Hag, We have brew'd in a bottle and bak'd in a bag which no body, &c.

15. They say that Antichrist came to settle, Religion within a Cooler and Kettle, His Nose & his Copper were both of a mettle, which no body, &c.

16. He had a strong and a very stout heart, And lookt to be made an Emperor for't, But the Devil did set a spoake in his Cart, which no body, &c.

17. The Christian Kings began to quake, And said, with that Brewer no Quartels wéel make, We'l let him alone, as he brews let him bake, which no body, &c.

18. But yet by the way you must néeds under∣stand, He kept all his passions so under command, Pride never could get the upper hand, which no body, &c.

19. And now may all stout souldiers say, Farewel the glory of the Dray,

For the Brewer himself to turn'd to clay, which no body, &c.

20. Thus fell a brave Brewer the bold Son of slaughter, Who need not to sear much what should follow a'ter, That deall all his life time in fire and water, which no body, &c.

21. And if his Successor had but had his might We all had not béen in that pitiful plight, But alas he was found many grains too light, which no body, &c.

22. Though wine be a Juice, swéet, pleasant, and pure, This trade doth such pleasure and profit pro∣cure That every Vintner in town is turn'd Brewer which no body, &c.

23. But now let's leave singing and drink off our Bub, Let's call for a reckoning, and every man club For I think I have told you a tale of a Tub, which no body can deny.

The Contest.

BEauty and Love once fell at odds, and thus revil'd each other: Quoth Love I am one of the Gods, and thou wait'st on my Mother:

Thou hadst no power on man at all, but what I gave to thée; Nor are you longer swéet or fair, than men acknowledge me.

2. Away fond Boy, then Beauty try'd, we know that thou art blind: And men of nobler parts they can, our grates better finde: T was I begot the mortal Snow, and kind••ed▪ mens desires, I made thy Quiver and thy Bow, and wings to fan thy fires.

3. Cupid in anger flung away, and thus ••o•• Vulcan pray'd, That he would tip his shafts with scorn; to punish his proud M••id; So ever since Beauty has bin but courted for an hour, To love a day to held a sin, 'gainst Cupid and his Power.

The Fond Amorist.

TEll me no more how fair she is, for I have no mind to hear A story of such distant Bliss, I never shall come near: By sad experience I have foui••••, That her perfections cause my wound.

2. Nor tell me not how fond I am, for to tempt my daring fate, Which never time could triumph in, but repent too late: There are some hopes e're long I may, In silence dote myself away.

3. I ask no pity Love, of thée, nor will thy justice blame, So that thou wilt not envy me, nor glory in thy flame, Which crowns my heart when e're it dyes, in that it falls thy Sacrifice.

On Women.

FEar not, my Genius, to unfold thy silent thoughts of these; Women are born to be control'd, receive them as you-please: Their long usurped Monarchy, Hath made me hate such tyranny.

2. Let them and their magnetick charms, as Harbingets before 'um, Possess themselves of Cupids arms, as baits for to adore 'um: I'le ne're commit Idolatry, With Subjects born, as well as I.

3. Their Diety with them must fade, this cannot be deny'd;

Yet since the pretty things were made out of old Adams side: We'l love them still, but know as thus, We do't because then're part of us, And l••t it then suffice the Elves, To say we love them as our▪ selves.

The satiated Lover.

YOu are not Cynthia better pleas'd than I, that you have led the way, Through this dark night of blind inconstancy and first by break of day: To fréedom now we'l sacrifice dreams past, 'twas my dull fate to cry. Good morrow last.

2. Perhaps so soon I could not disengage, having a greater, score▪ Some birds will longer hove•• 'bout the Cage, though 'twas their Goal before: But 'twas not long I meant to sit about Your ashes, when the fire was quite burnt out

3. But, now my Iaylor has my bonds unti'd, I'le hold my hands no more Vp at Loves Bar, he is condemn'd and try'd, that has béen burnt before: But that heart sickness which you gave protects 'Sis seldom that the same plague twice infects

4. Breasts that have felt Love's cruel slavery are better fortifi'd

By this experience, than they e're could he by reason or by pride: Then blush not that you quench your amorous flame, But blush with me, if e're you love again.

A Love-Riddle.

DOwn in a Garden sate my dearest Love, her skin more soft and white, than dainty Snow, More tender-breasted than the harmless Dove, and far more kinde than bléeding Pelitan, I courted her, she rose, and blushing said, Why was I born to live and dye, a Maid?

2. For her I pluckt a pretty Marry-gold, whose leaves were shut in with the ev'ning I spoke to her, Rise up Love, and behold what pretty Riddles this to thée hath shown: Sun These Leaves shut in, are chasre like Cloister Nun, Yet then will open, when they sée the Sun.

3. What mean you by this Riddle sir, she said, I pray expound it: then I thus began, Know Maids were made for Men, Man for a Maid, With that she changed colour and lookt wan, Since you this Riddle sir, so well have told, Be you my Sun, I'le be your Marry-gold.

The loving Contest.

WHen Ph••bus had drest his course to the we•••• and took up his rest below: And Cynthia agréed in her glittering wéed, her like in his stead to bestow: I walked alone, attended by none, till suddenly one did cry, Oh do not, do not kill me yet, For I am not prepared to die.

2. With that I drew near, to sée and to hea••, and there did appear such a show, The Moon was so light, I saw such a sight, it fits not each wight for to know, A man and a maid, together was laid, and ever she cry'd, Nay ••e, Oh do not, &c.

3. This youth was so rust, that he took up hee st•••••• although she did cry, yet still did she lie And put him by with a no; for he was so strong, and she was so young, She rested not long for to cry, Oh do not, &c.

4. Thus striving in vain, well pleas'd with hee pai•• she vow'd to remain his foe, And kept such a quail, when he gave her the foll the greater the Bropl did grow; For he was prepar'd, and did not regard

her words, when he heard her cry, Oh do not, &c.

5. At last he gave o're, and suddenly swore, he would kill her no more that night, But bad her adieu, for he very well knew she would tempt him to new delight: But when he wn'd part, it went to her heart, which taught her more art to cry, Oh kill me, kill me once again, For now l'm prepared to die.

In praise of his Mistriss.

IF Narcissus foolish boy, did on a shadow fix his joy, Or consume himself in séeing, that which had no life, nor being: If fair Laeda loath'd a man, and yet doted on a Swan, How blest am I than loves a Fair, in whom the choice of all perfections are!

2. No cloud inhabits where she dwells, But all the Air perfumed smells, Where her touches she disposes, Lillies grow like fragrant Roses, And through every of her veins, the violet shoots up and resigns, Which doth perish and decay, if she but once doth turn her beams away.

3. The pure heat of that chaste fire, Which shines through all her parts intire, and doth chéer me with de••••••ht Those heavenly objects fill my sight, dearest yet forget to kill, That I may live to serve you still, that I may kiss that blessed hand, And so a Lovers statue always stand.

4. That I may have the happiness to hug that trée, and not transgress: To pluck those flowers, whose vertues are to make me rich, thée onely rare, Or those kindlers of desire, which do set the world on fire, And so affright those powers above, by consuming, all consuming Love.

A Love Song.

LYe still, my dear, why dost thou rise, The light that shines comes from thine eyes, The day breaks not, it is my heart, to think that thée, and I must part. Oh stay, oh stay, oh stay, Or else our joys will die, Or perish in their infancy.

2. 'Tis true, 'tis day, what if it be, wilt thou therefore rise from me? Did we lie down because of night,

and shall we rise for fear of night? Oh no: since in darkness we came hither, With leave of light we'l lie together.

3. Love, let me lie in thy swéet breast, more swéeter than the Phoenix nest, Love caus'd desire by thy sweet charms, oh let me lie within Loves arms: Oh let, oh let, thy blissful kisses cherish, Or else my instant joys will perish.

A Pastoral Song: With the Answer.

CLoris since thou art fled away, Amyntas shéep are gone astray, And all the joys he took to sée his pretty Lambs run after thée, They're gone, they're gone; and he alway, sings nothing now, but well-a-day, well-a∣day.

2. Th' emboider'd Scrip he us'd to wear, neglected lies, so doth his hair, His crook is broke, Dog howling lies, while he laments with woful eyes, Oh Cloris, Cloris, I decay, and forc'd am to cry, well-a-day, well-a-day.

3. His Daten Pipe whereon he plays so oft to his swéet Roundelays, Is flung away, and not a Swain dares pipe or sing upon his plain,

'Tis death to any that shall say, one word to him but well-a-day, well-a-day▪

4. The way whereon her dainty féet, in even measure us'd to méet, Is broken down; and no content came near Amintas since she went: For all that e're I heard him say, was Cloris, Cloris, well-a-day, well-a-day.

5. Th'ground whereon she us'd to tread, he ever since hath laid his head, Still breathing forth such pining woes. that not one blade of grass there grows: Oh Cloris, Cloris, come away, and hear Amintas well-a-day, well-a-day,

The Answer.

CLoris, since thou art gone astray, Amyntas, shepher'ds fled away, And all the joys he wont to spye I'th Babies of thine eye, Are gone, and she hath nought to say, But who can help what will away, will away?

2. The Gréen on which it was her chance To have her hand first in a dance, Among the merry Maidens cr••w, Now makes her nought but sigh and rue The time she e're had cause to say, And who can help what will away, will away?

3. The Lawn with which she wont to deck, And circle in her whiter Neck: Her Apron lies be hinde the door, The strings won't reach now as before, Which makes her oft cry well-a-day, But who can help what will away, will away?

4. He often swore that he would leave me, E're of my heart he could bereave me, But when the Sign was in the Tayl, He knew poor Maiden-flesh was frail, And laughs now I have nought to say, But who can help what will away, will away▪

5. But let the blame upon me lye, I had no heart him to deny: Had I another Maiden-head, I'd lose ir e're I went to bed; For what can all the world more say, Than who can help what wil away, wil away

Upon Charing-Cross.

UNdone, undone, you Lawyers are, that wander about the Town, And can't finde the way to Westminster, now Charing-Cross is down: At the end o'th Strand they make a stand, sweating they're at a loss, And chasing say, that's not the way. they must go by Charing-Cross.

2. The Committées they said, Verily, to Pop'ry it was bent For ought I know, it might be so, to Church it never went: What with—and other Laws, the Kingdom doth begin, To think you I leave them ne're a Cross without doors, nor within.

3. For neither man woman nor childe, can say, I'm confident, That e re they heard it speak a word, against the Parliament, 'T had Letters about it found some say, or else it had béen fréed, Fore George I'le take my Oath of it, 't could neither write, nor read.

A Song in derision of his Mistriss.

FIne young folly, though you wear That rare beauty, I do swear, yet you ne're came near my heart; For we Courtiers learn at school, onely with your sex to fool, You are not worth a serious part.

2. When I sigh and kiss your hand, cross mine Arms, and wondring stand, Holding Parley with your eye, next to dally with my desires,

Swear the Sun ne're shot such sires▪ all's but a handsom Lye.

3. When I eye your curled lace, gentle Soul, you think your face Straight some murther doth commit, and your conscience doth begin, To grow scrup'lous of a sin, when I court to she win ywit.

4. Therefore Madam, wear no Cloud, nor to check my love grow proud; For in truth, I much do doubt 'tis the powder in your hair, Not your breath perfumes the air, but your Cloaths that set you out.

5. Yet for all this truth consest, and I swear I lov'd in jest: When I next begin to court, and protest an amorous flame, You'l swear I in earnest am; beldam, this is pretty spor••.

The Dominion of the Sword.

LAy by your pleading, Law lies a bléeding, Burn all your studies down▪ and throw away your reading

2. Small power the word has, And can afford us, Not half so much priviledge as the sword does.

3. It fosters your Masters, It plaisters Disasters, It makes y^e servants quickly greater than thée master

4. It venters, it enters, It séeks and it centers, It makes a prentice frée in spite of his Inde••∣te••••

5. It talks of small things, But it sets up all things, This masters Money, though Money masters all things

6. It is not season, To talk of reason, Nor call it Loyalty, when the sword will have it Treason

7. It conquers the Crown too, The Grave and the Gown too, First it sets up a Presbyter, & then it pulls his down to

8. This subtile Disaster, Turns Bonnet to Beaver Down goes a Bishop, Sirs, and up starts▪ Weavit

9. This makes a Lap-man, To preach and to pray man, And makes a Lord of him that was but a Drap ••an.

10. Far from the Gulpit, Of Sa••bey's Pulpit, This brought an Hebrew Iron-monger to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Pulpit.

11. Such pitiful things be, More happier than Kings be, They get the upper-hand of Thimblebee and Slingsber.

2. No Gospel can guide it, No Lw can decide it. In Church or State, till the Sword hath san∣ctifi'd it.

13. Down goes your Law-tricks, Far from the Matricks, Spring up holy Hewsons power, & pull'd down St. Patricks.

14. This Sword it prevails too, So highly in Wales too, Shinkin ap Powel swears Cuts-plutterer nails too.

15. In Scotland this faster, Did make such disaster, That they sent their mony back for which they sold their Master.

16. It batter'd their Gunkirk, And so it did their Dunkirk, That he is fled, and swears the Devil is in Dunkirk.

17. He that can tower, Or he that is lower, Would be judg'd a fool to put away his power.

18. Take books and rent 'um, Who can invent 'um, When that the Sword replies, Negatur Argu∣mentum?

19. Your brave Colledge-Butlers, Must st••op to the Sutlers, There's ne're a Library like to the Cutlers,

20. The blood that was spilt, Sir. Hath gain'd all the Gilt, Sir, Thus have you séen me run my sword up to the Hilt, Sir.

The fickle Lover.

Why should you swear I am forsworn, since thine I vow'd to be: Lady, it is already morn, and 'twas last night I swore to thée That fond impossibility.

2. Have I not lov'd thée much and long, a tedious twelve hours spacè? I must all other Beauties wrong, and rob thée of a new imbrace, Should I still dote upon thy face.

3. Not but all joys in thy brown hair, by others may be found, But I must search the black and fair, like skilful Mineralists, that sound For treasure in a plow'd-up ground.

4. Then if when I have lov'd my round, thou prov'st the pleasant she, With spoil of meaner Beauties crown'd, I loaden will return to thée, Even sated with variety.

A Mock-song.

HOwl, howl, some prodigious Owl, For a Monster so foul, no tougue can express, And I fear I shall dye,

with a squint from that eye, Which so lately did flie, like infection from the skie, Or some worse Malady: but I'le do what I can, Ne're to sée her again.

2. When I, in the Kitchin did spye, this deformed prodigy, On her knóes scouring dishes, oh she lookt so like a witch, That my féet and hands did itch, to be kicking of her bréech, Or t'imbrace her with a switch; but she'l yield such a scréech That I was well assur'd, she could not be endur'd.

3. Bloat, bloat, and as chaste as a stoat, or a lecherous Goat, Was this damnable Hagg, from each eye there did come, A thick menstruous gum like the spermatick foam Of some ulcerated wom'b; but I dare make it known, That this stuff did arise, from no pearls of her eyes.

4. But now, increaseth my woe. though I truly did know

Where this Pole-cat did dwell; for her work being done, 'Bout the platter and the spoon, she was vanished soon, And left me glad alone, and to the Devil she is gone, Which makes me to say, that I'le kéep Holy-day.

5. Hence I, for ever will defie, such vain impurity, As the Kitchin affords: all you sluts then adieu, Be your smocks old or new, I'le have nothing to do, With such Tallow-mine as you, but my love I le renew, Where I'le sigh out my breath, till occasion d by death.

Good Counsel.

CLoris forbear a while, do not o're joy-me, Urge not another smile, lest thou destroy me: That beauty pleaseth most, and is soon'st taken, Which is soon won, soon lost, kindly forsaken: I love a coming Lass, 'faith I do,

But now and then would have her scornful too.

2. O cloud those eyes of thine, bo-péep thy feature, Warm'd with an April shine, scorch not the creature, Thus to display thy ware, thus to be fooling, Argues how rude you are, in Cupids schooling: Disdain begets a shent, scorn draws me nigh, 'Tis cause I would and can't, makes me try.

3. Cloris, I'de have thée wise, when gallants w••••e thée, And Courtship thou despise, flie those persue thée, Fasting moves appetite, makes hunger greáter, What's stinted of delight, falls to the better: Be kindly coy betimes, be smoothly rough, And buckle now and then, and that's enough.

The blinde Zealor.

I Am not mad, O Festus, When zeal and godly knowledge have put me in hope, to deal with the Pope, As well as the best in the Colledge, Boldly I preach war a Cross, war a Su••plice,

Miters, Copes, and Rochets, Come hear me pray nine times a day, And fill your heads with Crochets.

2. In the house of pure Emanuel, I had my education, Where my friends surmise, I dazled my eyes With the sight of the Revelation, Boldly, &c.

3. They bind me like a Bedlam, They lash my four poor quarters, while this I endure, Faith maltes me sure, To be one of Foxes Martyrs. Boldly, &c.

4. These injuries I suffer, Through Antichrists perswasion? Take away the chain, Neither, Room, nor Spain, Can resist my strong invasion, Boldly, &c.

5. Of the Beasts ten horns, Lord bless us, I have knockt off thrée already, If they let me alone, I'le leave her none, Though some say I am too heavy. Boldly, &c.

6. I assail'd the seven-hil'd City,

Where I met the great red Dragon, But I kept him aloof, With the Armor of proof, Though here I have never a rag on. Boldly, &c.

7. With fire, Sword, and Target, I encountred with the monster, Though the sons of pride, My zeal deride, And all my deeds mis-conster. Boldly, &c.

8. I saw two in a Vision, With a flying book betwéen 'um, I fell in despair Five times in a year, And was cur'd by reading Grenham. Boldly, &c.

9. I observed in Perkins Table The blank line of damnation, but those crooked vains so st••••k in my brains, That I fear'd my reprobation. Boldly, &c.

10. I unhors'd the whore of Babel, With a Launce of inspiration, But I made her stink, and spill her drink, In the Cup of abomination. Boldly, &c.

11. In the holy tongue of Canaan, I plac'd my greatest pleasure, Till I pricke my foot with an hebrew root, That bled beyond all measure, Boldly, &c.

12. I appear'd before th' Archbishop, And all the High Commission, I gave him no grace, But told him to his face He favored Superstition, Boldly, &c.

Full forty times over.

FVll forty times over I have strived to wi•• Full forty times over repulsed have bin, But 'tis forty to one but I'le tempt her agen; for he's a dull Lover that so will give over, Since thus runs the sport, Since thus runs the sport, Assault her but often, and you carry the Fort, since thus runs the sport, Assault her but often, and you carry the Fort.

2. There's a breach ready made which still open hath bin, With thousands of thoughts to betray it with∣in, If you once but approach, you are sure to get in, then stand not off coldly,

but venier on boldly With weapon in hand, With weapon in hand, If you once but approach, she's not able to stand with weapon in hand, If you once but approach she's not able to stand

3. Some Ladies when down before them you sit, Will think to repulse you with Fire-buds of wit, But alas they'r but crackers, & seldom do hit, then vanquish them after, with alarms of laughter, Their Forces being broke, Their Forces being broke, And y^e fire quite out, you may vanquish to smoke their forces being broke: And y^e fire quite out, you may vanquish in smoke

4. With pride and with state, some out-works they make, And with vollies of Frowns drive the enemy back: If you minde her discréetly she's easie to take, then to it, ne're fear her, but boldly come near her, By working about, By working about, If you once but approach, she can ne're hold it out, by working about, If you once but approach, she can ne're hold it out.

5. Some Ladies with blushes & modesty fight, And with their own fears the rude foe do af∣fright, But they'r eas'ly surpriz'd if you come in the night; then this you must drive at, to Parley in private, And then they'r o'rethrown, And then they'r o'rethrown, If you promise them fairly, they'l soon be your own, and then they'r o'rethrown, If you promise them fairly, they'l soon be your own.

The Answer.

HE is a fond Lover that doteth on scorn, Who Fortune's neglects hath patiently born: He's proud of abules, if e're he return To prove a fond Lover, His wit he'l discover, By striving to win, A fort, where old forces neglected have bin,

2. For when a Fort we defend from the foe, We traitors imprison, they ne're come below, And her Fort is defended by answering, Not If this will not do it, Disdain added to it, Your weapon will fall; Although you approach, you'l not enter at all,

3. They are Lady-birds sure, these Lovers intend, Which cannot with wit such a fortress defend Whilst Hectors their Squibs and their Crack∣ers do spend; And vainly come after, To conquer with laughter; For she hath us wit, That spends all her ••ire in the smoak to be hit.

4. Where a fort hath no strength but such as is made By pride and by state, such a foe may invade; For these are defences for those of the trade: You men are so witty, Works guard not our City, But fortes within, With which we maintain't, though the out∣works you win.

5. These warriors at last with our weapons will light; If we are not aware, they'l come in the night: But alas they'r denied, our ••ertues are bright For she that loves honor, No parley e're won her, To yield up her pow'r, For a few flatt'ring words, and the sport of an hour.

The Jovialists Coronation.

SInce it must be so, why then so let it go, Let the Giddi-brain'd times turn round▪ Now we have our King, let the Goblets be crownd And our Monarchy thus we recover: Whilst the Pottles are wéeping, We'•• drench our sad souls In big-belly'd Bowls, And our sorrows in wine shall lie stéeping, And we'l drink till our eyes do run over, and prove it by reason, It can be no treason To drink, or to sing A Mournifal of Healths to our true Crowned King.

2. Let us all stand bare, in the presence we •••••• Let our Noses like Bonefires shine: In stead of the Conduits let Pottles run win: To perfect this true Coronation; And we that are loyal in drink shall be Péers, For that face that wears Claret, Looks like the Blood Royal, And out-stares the Bores of our Nation; In sign of Obedience, Our Oaths of Allegiance, Béer-glasses shall be, And he that tipples, tends to the Nobility.

3. But if in this Raign, a Halberdly tra••••,

Or a Constable chance to revel, And would with his twyvels maliciously swell And against the Kings party raise Arms, Then the Drawers like Yeomen o the Guard, With Quart-pots, Shall fuddle the Sots, Till they make 'um both Cuckolds & Fréemen And on their wives beat up Alarm: Thus as the Health passes, Weel trifle our Glasses, And count it no sin To drink and be loyal, in defence of our King.

A Lovers Request.

SInce 'tis my fate to be thy flave, render such pity you would crave: Since 'tis my fortune so to be, to him that courts his destiny.

2. Twas those magnetick eyes •••• at drew my heart away at the first view, Since then to love it was the womb which gave it life, be not the tomb.

3. Should I affect e••il'd delay dangers attends a tedious way: Few are the words that may combine our hearts, 'tis onely say Thou'r•• mine.

4. Yet if another hath possest those hopes that might have made me blest,

Be spéedy in thy Doom, and I by death am freed from misery.

The despairing Lover to his Mistriss.

FAir Archabella to thine eirs, that paints just blushes on the skies; Each noble heart shall sacrifice; yet be not truel though you may, When e'r you please to save, or slay, or with a frown benight the day.

2. I do not beg that you shou'd rest in an inforced high-way breast, A Lodging for each common guest: but I present a bleeding heart, That never felt a former smart, wounded by love, not prickt by art.

3. And if you smile, then I shall live: but if you frown, a death you give, For which it were a sin to grieve: but if it be decréed I fall, Grant me one Boon, one Boon is all, that you wou'd me your Martyr call.

Good Advice.

GAther your Rose-buds whilst you may, for time is still a flying, And that same Flower which grows to day, to morrow will be dying.

2. The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, the higher he is getting, The sooner will his race be run, and nearer is to setting,

3. That age is best that is the first, whilst youth and blood are warmer: But being fled, grows worse and worse, and ill succéeds the former.

4. Then be nor coy, but spend your time, and whilst you may, go marry; For having once but lost your prime, you may for ever tarry.

The Muses courting Sack.

POx take you Mistriss, I'le be gone, I have friends to wait upon; Think you I'le my self confine to your humors, Lady mine? No: your lowring looks do say, 'twill be a rainy drinking day, To the Tavern let's away.

2. There have I a Mistriss got, cloyster'd in a Pottle-pot: Plump and bounding, soft and fair, bucksom, swéet, and de bonair, And they call her Sack my Dear.

3. Sack with no scornful dread will blast me, though upon the bed she cast me,

Yet ne're blush her self to red, nor fear the loss of Maiden-head: And though mute and still she be, quicker wits she brings to me Then I e're could find in thée; Yet if thou wilt take the pain to be kinde yet once again, And with thy smiles but call me back, thou shalt be the Lady Sack. Oh then try, and you shall sée, what a loving soul I'le be, When I'm drunk with none but thée.

The Constant Lover.

MVst your fair enflaming eye Make a Lover mourn or cry? All consenting, not repenting At your will to live or die.

2. Must your fair face, and rare desert, Kéep in awe a Lovers heart? Yet by praying, and obeying, In thée I hope to have part.

3. In excess of joy or pain, I still labor to attain Such a measure of Loves treasure, Never to be poor again.

4. Although I should plainly sée Your disdain would murther me,

It should not fright me, but delight me, So I might thy Martyr be.

The Loyal Prisoner.

HOw happy's that Pris'ner that conquers his fa••e With silence, and ne've on bad fortunes com∣plains: But carelesly plays with Keys on his grates, And he makes a swéet consort with them and his chains, He ••rown•••• care in Sack, while his thoughts are opprest, And he makes his heart float like a Cork in his breast. Then since we are all Slaves, and Islanders be, And our land a large prison inclos'd with the Sea W••'l drink off the Ocean, and set our selves free For man is the worlds Epitomy.

2. Let Tyrants wear purple, déep dy'd in the blood Of those they have slain, their Scepters to sway, If our Conscience be clear, and our Title be good, With the ••ags that hang on us, w^t are richer then they, We'l drink down at night what we beg or can borrow, And sléep without plotting for more the next mortow, Then since we are, &c.

3. Let the Vsurer watch o're his bags and his house,, To kéep that from Robbers he ra••'t from his debtors,

Which at midnight tryes theives, at the nosse of a Mouse, And he looks if his Trunks are fast bound to their setters: When once he is grown rich enough for a States-plot, Buff in one hour plunders what thréescore years got. Then since, &c.

4. Come Drawer, fill each man a peck of old Sherry, This brimmer shal bid al our senses good night When old Aristotle was frolick and merry, By the juice of the grape he stager'd out-right, Copernicus once in a drunken fit found By the course of's brains y^t the world did turn round, Then since, &c.

5. 'Tis Sack makes our faces like Comets to shine, And gives tincture beyond a complexion mask, Diogenes fell so in love with his wine, Then when 'twas all out, he dwelt in the cas•• And being shut up within a close room, He dying, requested a Tub for his Tomb. Then since, &c.

6. Let him never so privately muster his gold, His Angels will their intelligence be, Haw closely they'r prest in their Canvas hold And they want the State-souldier to set them all frée, Let them pine and be hang'd, we'l merrily 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Who hath nothing to lose, may cry, God bless the King. Then since, &c.

The Maidens Complaint.

WHen Flora had mantled the Meadows with Flowers, A and richly adorned her beautiful Bowers, A Maid she sate sighing, and often did moan, Saying, Love hath betraid her, & left her alone

2. Ile spit at the Tyrant that hath me betraid And tax him with falshood for wronging a maid Ile call him blind Archer, & treacherous Boy, Cause he with his engine my love doth annoy.

3. But if he preserveth my heart as he should, And wounds me not déeper with arows of gold Ile honor his precepts with clapping of hands And still be obedient to all his commands.

Canary's Coronation.

COme let's purge our brains, From Ale and Grains, They do smell of Anarchy: Let's chuse a King, From whose blood may spring, Such a sparkling Progeny, It will be fit, strow mine in it, Whose flames are bright and clear, We'l bind our hands with Dray-mens bands, When as we may be fréer, Why should we droop, or basely stoop To popular Ale or Béer:

2. Who shall be King, now comes the thing, For the which we all are met? Claret is a Prince, that hath long since, In the Royal Order set: His face is spread with a warlike séed, And so he loves to sée men, When he bears the sway, his Subjects they Shall be as good as frée-men, But here's the Plot almost forgot, 'Tis too much burnt with women.

3. By the river of Rhine is a valiant Vine, That can all other replenish, Let's then consent to the Government, And the Royal Rule of Rhenish: The German wine, will warm the Chine, And frisk in every vein, 'T will make the Bride forget to chide And call him to't again; But that's not all, he is too small, To be our Soveraign.

4. Let us never think of a noble drink, But with notes advance on high: Let's proclaim good Canary's name, Heaven bless his Majesty, He is a King in every thing, Whose nature doth rentunce all, He'l make us skip and nimbly trip, From Céeling to the Groundsil, Especially when Poets be.

Lords of the Privy-Council.

5. But a Vintner will his Taster be, Here's nothing that can him let, A Drawer that hath a good palat: Shall be ••••quire of the Gimblet; The bar-boys shall be the Pages all; A Tavern well prepar'd, And nothing shall be spar'd In jovial sort shall be the Court, Wine-Porters that are souldiers tall Be Yeomen of the Guard.

6. But if a Cooper we, with a red nose sée, In any pott of the Town, The Cooper shall with his Ads▪ royal, Bear the Scepter of the Crown. Young wits that wash away their Cash, In wine and recreation, Who hates Ale and Béer, shal be welcome here To give their approbation, So shall all you, that will allow Canary's Coronation.

The Lovers complaint.

TEl me ye wandring spirits of the air, did you e'r sée a Nimph more bright, more fair Than beauties darling, & her parts most swéer then stole content? if such a one you méet, Wait on her early wheresoe're she flies, and cry, and cry, Amyntas for her absence dies.

2. But stay a while, I have inform'd you ill,

were she on earth, she had bin with me still: Fly, fly to Heaven, examine every Sphere, and sée what Star is lately fixed there; If any brighter than the Sun you sée, fall down, fall down and worship, that is she.

Go search the valleys, pluck us every Rose▪ ••. and you shall finde a scent of her in those, Go fish for Pearl-corral, there you shall sée how orential all her colours be: Then call the Eccho to your aid, and cry, Cloris, Cloris assist, or else I dye.

Platonick Love.

FOnd Lovers what do you mean, to Court an idle folly? Platonick Love is nothing else but méerly Melancholly, Tis active love that makes us jolly.

2. To dote upon a face, or court a sparkling eye, Or to believe a dimpled chin, compleat felicity, 'Tis to betray your liberty.

3. She cares not for your sighs, nor your lamenting eyes, She hates to hear a fool complain, and cry, he dies, he dies, Believe she loves a close surprize.

4. Then he no more so fond, as to think a woman can Be satisfied with complements, the frothy part of a man, Oh no, she hates a Puritan.

5. Then venture to embrace, 'tis but one squeak or two, I'm confident no woman lives, but sometimes she will do, The fault lies not in her, but you.

Upon passionate Love.

NO man Loves fiery passion can approve, as either yielding pleasure or promotion, I like a milde and luke-warm zeal in love, although I do not like it in devotion.

2. Besides, man néed not love unless he please, no destiny can force mans disposition, How t•••••• can any die of that disease, when 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himself may be his own Physitian?

3. Some one perhaps in long consumption dry'd and after falling into love may die: But I dare lay my life he ne'r had dy'd, had he béen healthy at the heart, as I.

4. Some others rather than incur the slander of false apostates, may true martyrs prove: But I am neither Iphis nor Leander, Ile neither hang nor drown'd my self for love

5. Yet I have béen a Lover by report, and I have di'd for love, as others do, But prais'd be Jove, it was in such a sort, that I reviv'd within one hour, or two.

6 Thus have I lov'd, thus have I liv'd til now, and know no reason to repent me yet, And he that any otherwise shall do, his courage is no better than his wit.

The Womans Answer.

NO man loves fiery passion can resist that either values pleasure or promotion, I hate luke-warmness in an Amorist, it is as had in love, as in devotion.

2. You that pretend to have a love-proof heart and dare despise the sacred power of Love, May know that more has faln by Cupids dart, than by the dreadful thunder-bolts of Jove.

3. Nor can you love, or not love, as you please, for Cupids laws commands the disposition: And I have known one die of that disease, whereof himself to others was Physitian.

4. For when the little God doth shoot his darts from the bright eyes of women that are fair The strokes are fatal, & wil wound the hearts of men as healthful as you think you are.

5. Those y^t thus die for love, incur no slander,

but with Loves holy Martyrdom are crownd Perhaps you cannot imitate Leander, for every man was not born to be drown'd.

6. You say you've béen a Lover by report, but never yet deserv'd so good a name, He never lov'd indéed, loves but a sport, it is ill jesting with a sacred flame.

7. Long may you live unlov'd, & when you die women upon your loathed grave shall spit, Till then all Gentlemen shall swear you lie, to try your courage, as you did your wit.

A Song upon Pu••, and Tick-tack.

AY ••ung man and a pretty maid, Sitting hand in hand together, Smilington him thus she said, Swéer, let's spend our time in pleasure, Good sir, quoth she, if that you please, a whole piece with you I will venter, At Put, to pass the time with ease, or at Tick-tack to hit and enter.

2. These parties being both agréed, of their best skill to make a tryal, Though he at Put to learn had néed, yet he would give her no denial, Good sir, quoth she, come lift with me, those that lift least shall have the dealing, Hers was an Ace, his was a Tre,

quoth he I was deceiv'd in féeling.

3. She dealt to him, he put to her, his game was good, she durst not sée him; To win the game she would be glad, he was the first, and had the dealing, And to be brief, thrée was the Set, and hée got two, e're she got any, An yet she swore she would him beat, for at last Put she had beat many.

4. Next Deal she held him closely to't, his game was good, but hers was better, He mov'd a Put, but durst not do't, because her spirit was the greater, Next bout she boldly Put to him, and he undaunted, did put with her. Hers being the best, the game was gone because they did put both together.

5. Fair Mistriss now I néeds must say, at Put your game is far the better, At Tick-tack I will hold you play, you shall loose all, and rest my debtor. Tush sir, quoth she, I fear you not, which if in your Tables I once enter, I'ch game I'le set you such a blot, beyond the which you dare not venter.

6. Wilt thou with fair play be content, let not my ill play thée trouble, For I have a full intent,

for to hit, or take it double, Duce-Ace he threw, a Tre her hat, and yet he over-sée to hit her, She took him then with a Why-not? but merk at last how he did fit her.

7. Now for the Set with strength he cast, it was his fortune for to hit her, He sank into her blot at last, and then she did confess he beat her; Forty wéeks hence, quoth she, I'le pay my loss to thée, by this good token, When as at Tick-tack I did play, I always left my Ace-point open.

LONDON'S Gratulation to the Lord General, the sixth of March, 1660.

A Paean was a Song of Praise First made to great Apollo, When plagues did rage in any place, Or cruel War, Peace follow, The blessings of good health and peace Are such strong Obligations, The first-fruits of our lips-encrease And due, as their Oblation. Then let us pay our Thanks to thee, (The mistocles of London,) Who timely came to set us free, Or London had been undone.

2. Religion, Law, and Liberty,

Distinguish us from others The French have lost whats kept by thée, (In fréedom once our Brothers) All was at Stake, when Hewson came, To make a new Translation; England it self became a shame And by-word to each Nation. Then let us pay our thanks to Thee, (Renowned George of London,) Who timely came to set us free, Or London had been undone.

3. Our Churches were contemn'd of late, Our Laws were but dead Letters, Vsurpers Lorded it ith' State, And vilantz'd their betters. Poor Citizens were doom'd the prey Of Fleetwoods Safe Committée; Granadoes were prepar'd to pay, The publick faith to th' City, Then let us pay, &c.

4. Fire and flames (like Thunder-claps discharged by Jove in flashes) Which vomited from Hewsons Chaps to lay us all in Ashes: The Anabaptists damn d us all to dismal Conflagration, Or to enslave us to White-hall, and Vanes vain ventilation, Then let us pay, &c.

5. Our Goldsmiths rowes in Lumbard-street, and Cheap-side were propounded For Pillage to the Saints; as méet such Idols were confounded! Our Merters, Groters, Drapers too, were measur'd out and weigh'd all, By th' Plow-share of John Disborow, that Standard, which has made all! Then let us pay, &c.

6. Our other Guilds and Companies were all condemn'd for plunder; And (where our antient glory lies) our Senators brought under: Petitions for our native Rights were déem'd pernicious Treason, Which our brave Ancestors in fights obtain'd from Kings with reason. Then let us pay our thanks to thee, (Renowned George of London,) Who timely came to set us free, Or London had been undone.

7. Our Brethren murder'd were and slasht, in peace as they were walking: Out of their heads the brains were dasht of some, as they stood talking: The best betook themselves by flight to Cóuntrey-habitation; Who staid in Town, were in such plight, as Eighty eight's Invasion.

7. But when the Rump (as some it nam'd) assembled in December, We thought, we had our own reclaim'd by pighting up that Member, Sir—we had season'd well with Salt to make fair spéeches Ith' House for us: but he can tell no Tale but in his— Then let us pay, &c.

8. Our Common-Councel were decry'd, some Members sent to th' Tower; The Rump did then on horse-back ride In an unlucky hour: They pull'd our Posts and Chains all down, Portcullices and Portals; Sir Arthur (with a surly frown) affrighted us poor Mortals. Then let us pay. &c.

9. But (blessed day) when thou didst call the Members long secluded; They voted down our slavish thrall from forty eight intruded; And what remains yet to be done for Church and State in fréedom, We hope shall never be begun from Prin-ciples of Needom. Then let us pay, &c.

10. The States of Venice, and the Dutch,

by nature are designed For Commonwealths: But England much to Monarchie's inclined. When Noll usurp'd, we quiet were, contented with that Ape-King, But more security is there, when rules the right, no Rape-King. Then let us pay, &c.

12. If we consider France and Spain, where Liberty is geason, The Kings their Subjects do maintain In peace by prudent reason: For Monarchy in Heaven above, (The Scriptures prove it clearly,) Keep's all the Royal host in Love, and unity most dearly. Then let us pay, &c.

13. One head the body do's preside by natures due Creation; One heart the life of Man do's guide, One spirit is infus'd in Man, Till it's Mortification; our Graces stugle be too: Such Truths a méer Re-publican or Devil must agrée to. Then let us pay, &c.

14. If Monarchy be best of all,

as (Aristotle proves it, And holy Writ,) well may we call him loyal heart, that love's it: And such the Noble Monk hath béen, (as Devon-shire Annals render,) Who faithful were to Bess our Queen, and James our faith's Defender, Then let us pay, &c.

15. Since thou art Of-spring of that Race, to Kingship well devoted, Let Charls the Second to his place, be spéedily promoted: Thus Wars will end in stable Peace, Church, State, no more shall sever, Our Trades will flourish, Wealth encrease, our George shall live for ever, Our thanks we freely pay to Thee, &c.

A SONG.

ALL hail to the days, that merits more praise Than all the rest of the year, And welcome the nights That double delights, As well in the Poor as the Péer, Good fortune attend Each merry mans friend, That doth but the best that he may,

For getting old wrong, With a Cup and a Song, To drive the cold Winter away.

2. Let Misery pack With a whip at his back, To the déep Tantalian flood; And Envy propound In Lethe be drown'd, That repines at another mans good, Let sorrow's expence Be a thousand years hence, With payment of grief and delay, And spend the whole night, With honest delight, To drive the cold Winter away,

An excellent Song.

I Dote, I dote, but am a Sot to show it, I was a very fool to let her know it; For now she doth so cunning grow, She proves a friend worse than a foe, She'l neither hold me fast, nor let me go: For she tells me I cannot forsake her, Then straight I endeavor to leave her, For to make me to stay, Throws a kiss in my way, O then I could tarry for ever.

2. Then I retire, salute, and sit down by her.

Thus do I fry in frost, and fréeze in fire, Then Nectar from her lips I sup, Although I cannot drink all up, Yet I am fort with kissing of the Cup; For her lips are two brimmers of Claret, Where first I began to miscarry, Her Breasts of delight, Are two Bottles of White And her eyes are two Cups of Canary.

3. Drunk as I live, dead drunk without re∣priede And all my secrets drebble through a sieve, Vpon my neck her Arms she layeth Then all is Gospel that she saith, Which I laid hold on with my fuddled faith: For I finde a fond Lover's a drunkard, And dangerous is when he flies out; With Lips and with Sips, Black eyes and white thighs, Blind Cupid sure tipled his eyes out.

4. She bids me rise, tells me I must be wise Like her, for she is not in love, she cryes, Then do I fume, and fret, and throw, Though I be fetter'd to my foe, Then I begin to run, but cannot go: But prithée swéet, use me more kindly, 'Tis better to hold me more fast; If you e're disengage, The Bird from the Cage,

Believe me, he I leave you at last.

5. Like Sot I sit, that us'd to fill the town with wi••, But I confess I have most néed of it, I have béen drunk with Duck and Déer, Above a quarter of a year, Beyond the cure of sléeping, or small Béer; I think I can number the months too, July, August, September, October, Thus runs the Account, A mischief light on't, Sure I shall go home when I'm sober.

6. My legs are lam'd, my courage is quite tamd My heart and body too, are much enslam'd; Now by ••xperience I can prove, And swear by all the Gods above 'Tis better to be drunk with wine, than Love For Sack makes ••s merry and witty, Our foreheads with Iewels adorning, Although I do grope, Yet there is some hope That I shall be sobe•• next morning.

7 Now with command, she throws me from her band And bids me go, yet knows I cannot stand, I measure all the ground by trips, Was ever Sot so drunk with Sips? Or ever than so over-séen in Lips? I pray Madam Fickle be faithful, And leave off your damnable dodging,

Either love me or leave me, And do not deceive me, But let me go home to my Lodging.

8. I have too much, and yet my folly's such, I cannot leave, but must have to'ther touch, Her▪es a Health to the King: how now? I'm drunk, and shall speak treason I vow, But Lovers and fools may say any thing you know; For I fear I have tired your patience, But I'm sorry: 'tis I have the worst on't, My wit hath be reft me, And all that is left me, Is but enough to make a Song on't, My Mistriss and I, Shall never comply, And that is the short and the long on't.

A Pastoral Song betwixt a Shepherd and a Shepherdess.

Q. DId you not once Lucinda vow, you would love none but me?

A. I but my Mother tells me now, I must love wealth, not thée.

Shep.

Cruel, thy love lies in thy power, though Fate to me's unkinde:

Maid.

Consider but how small thy Dower is, in respect of mine.

Shep.

Is it because my shéep are poor,

or that my flocks are few?

Maid.

No: But I cannot love at all, so mean a thing as you.

Shep.

Ah me, Ah me, mock you may grief?

Maid.

I pity thy hard fare.

Shep.

Pity for Love's but poor relief, I'le rather choose your hate.

Maid.

Content thy self, Shepherd a while, I'le love thée by this Kiss, Thou shalt have no more cause to mourn Than thou caust take in this.

Shep.

Bear retord then you Powers above, and all those Holy Bands: For it appears the truest Love, springs not from wealth nor Lands.

A Cavear.

TAke héed fair Cloris, how you tame With your disdain, Amyntas flame; A noble heart, if once deny'd, Swells into such a height of pride, 'Twill rather burst, than deign to be, A worshipper of Cruelty.

2. You may use common Shepherds so, My sighs to storms will quickly grow, And set such scorns upon your pride, Will blast all I have magnifi'd, You are not fair, if love you lack, Ingratitude makes all things black.

3. Oh do not for a flock of shéep, A golden shore whereon you sléep, Nor for the Tales ambition tells, Forsake the house where honor dwels: In Damon's Palace you'l ne're shine So bright, as in these arms of mine.

The Platonick Lover.

SHe's not the fairest of her name, and yet she conquers more than all her rate But she hath other motives to inflame besides her lovely face, As wit and constancy, And charms that take the soul more than the ept, Tis no easie Lover knows how to discover such divinity.

2. And yet she is an easie Book, writen in plain language for the meaner wit A stately garb, and a gracious look, with all things justly fit, But age will undermine That glorious outside which appears so fine, When the common Lover shrinks and gives her over Then she's onely mine.

3. To the Platonick that applies his clear addresses onely to the mind, The body but a temple signifies wherein the Saints inshrin'd: To him it is all one,

Whether the walls be Marble, or of stone, Nay in holy places which old time defaces, Most Devotion's shown.

Loves Extasie.

NOw I confess I am in love, although I thought I never should, But 'tis with one sent from above, whom Nature fram'd of siner Mould, So gòod, so rare, so all divine, I'd quit the world to make her mine.

2. Have you not séen the Stars retreat, when Sol salutes the Hemisphere, So shrinks the Beauties called great when swéet Rosella doth appear: Were she as other women are, I should not court her with despair.

3. But I could never bear a mind, willing to stoop to common faces, Nor confidence enough could finde to aim at one so full of graces, Fortune and Nature did agree, No woman should be fic for me.

The Husband-man, and Serving-man:

WEll met my friend, upon the high-way, walking on, So sad all alone,

I pray you tell to me, of what science you be Or are you a Serving-man?

2. Oh my brother déer, why dost thou inquée•• any such thing at my hand? I will not fain but chill tell thée plain, I am a plain Husband-man.

3. If a husband-man you be, if you wil go with me, you shall finde alteration then, For I will bring you in a very short time, where you may be a Serving-man.

4. Good sir, the give you thanks for your great deligence zimple though here I do stand: But yet I do mean with my plough & my tram still to be a Husband-man.

5. We have pleasure like a King, we ride a hunting, with our goodly Greyhounds many a one, Our horns all arow, their measures for to blow oh 'tis pleasure for a Serving-man.

6. We have pleasure more than that to zée our Oren vat, Not under their Loads for to stand; but to labor and take pain, To bring in our gain, oh 'tis pleasure for a Husband-man.

7. A Serving-man doth eat, The best Meat that he can get, his Pig, Goose, Capon, and his Swan,

Thereto his Pasties fine, With Sack and Claret-wine. oh 'tis Diet for a Serving-man.

8. As for Pig, Goose and Capon, Give me good Béef and Bacon, with Butter and Chéese among, And in a Countrey House Vat Pudding and Zouse. that's Diet for a Husbanding-man.

9. A Serving-mans behavior, Brings him into favor, when he waits his Masters Table upon: There is never a Knight nor Squire That lives in all the Shire, but he must have a Serving-man.

10. If a Serving-man you were, Then néed you not to care for tilling or ploughing of your land; For then you may go gay, And wear brave aray, oh 'tis habit for the Serving-man.

11. As for your gay Repparel, Zir, this is not the quarrel, that you and I do stand upon: But fain would I know, If that thou canst me show, what pleasure hath a Zerving-man.

12. A Serving-mans pleasure

Is without ineasure, when the Hawk is his fist upon, To sée what hall•• he will make, His game for to take, oh 'tis pleasure for a Serving-man,

13. We have pleasure also, To sée our Corn grow, and prosper the land upon, And to get it in our Barns, Frée from any harms, oh 'tis pleasure for a Husbanding-man.

14. Indéed sir, it were bad, If none were to be had, to tend the Table upon, But there's neither Emperor nor King, Nor any living, can live without the Husbanding-man.

15. Indéed I must confess, And grant you no less, and give you the upper hand, Your labour is painful, But yet it is gainful, I would I were a Husbanding-man.

16. Then let us all, Both great and small, pray for the Peace of old England, And that we may ever Do our endeavor, still to maintain the Husband-man.

A Merry Medley.

First Ayr. The Jews Corant.

LOt's call and drink the Cellar dry, there's nothing lover underneath the sky, The greatest kingdoms in confusion lye, Since al the world grows mad, why may not I my Father's dead and I am frée he left no children in the world but me, the Devil drunk him down with usury and I'le repine in liberality, When lirst the English war began He was precisely a politick man, That gain'd his state by lequestration till Oliver begun to tome with sword in hand and put him to the run Then jovial Lads who are undone, So by the Father, co•••• home to the Son Whom wine and mus••••k now do wait upon, let's tipple up a tun, and drink your woes away, jolly hearts come on, come on.

Second Ayr. Princess Royal.

HEre's a Health to him that may do a trick that shall advance you all, And beget a very jovial day.

Fill another bowl to he who hath drank by stealth his Landlords health, If his spirit and his tongue agrée, the Land shall celebrate his fame, all the world embalm his name, not a right good fellow, but will satisfie the same, The Bells full merrily shall ring, All the Town shall dance and sing, more delights than I can tell ye; When we sée this noble Spring, wée'l have Ladies by the belly, and a snatch at the o'ther thing.

The third Ayr. Come hither my own sweet Duck.

WE'saw be merry and jolly, quaff, carouse, and réel, We's play with Peggy and Molly dance, and kiss, and féel, We's put up the Bag-pipe & Organ. and make the Welsh Harper to play, Till Mauris ap Shon ap Morgan fisk as on St. Taffi••s day. Hold up Jinny, Piper come play us a spring, all you that have musick in ye Tipple, dance, and sing.

Fourth Ayr. French Tricatees.

LEt de French Monsieur come and swear, Beg••r Mounsieur, Dis is de ting vée long to hear, So many a year, Dancing vill be lookt upon, Now de man of Yron is gone, Me glad his dancing days be done: When de slower-de-luces grows With de English Crown and Rose, Dats very good as we suppose, De French can live without de nose.

Fifth Ayr. French Tricatees.

SPain and English then, like men, Shall love and make a League agen. Holland ••••ors shall quaff, and laugh, Poor Irish swim in Usquebaugh, James and Jinnikin, touch the Minnikin Drink till all the Sky look blew, by this swéet change Wonders doth ensue, almost as strange As Scotland to be true.

Sixth Ayr. A new Countrey-dance.

NO Drayman shall with his dull féet apea•• Lord in the Common-weal, Or Iesuit in the Pulpit appear, under a Cloak of zeal: Musician never be noted for wandring men of ease, But they shall be finely Coated and permitted to sing what they please, If all things do but hit well who knows but so 't may be, Though now you be very zealous, then you'l laugh and be merry as we.

The Resolute Lover.

LIttle Love serves my turn, 'tis so inflaming, Rather than I will burn, Ile give o're Gaming; For when I think upon 't, oh 'tis so painful 'Cause Ladies have a trick to be disdainful.

2. Beauty shall court it self, 'tis not worth speaking; I'le no more am'rous pelf, no more heart-breaking,

Those that ne re felt the smart, let them go try it, I have redéem'd my heart, now I defie it.

Upon the draining of the F••ns.

THe Vp land people are full of thoughts, and do despair of After-rain, The sun he is rob'd of his Morning-draughts, they'r afraid they shal never have showr again Then apace, apace, 'pace drink deep, drink deep, While 'tis to be had let's our Liquor ply, The Drainers are up, and a coyl they do keep, And threaten to drain our Kingdom dry.

2. The ne•• Philosophers rob us of fire, (the•••• and by reason do strive to maintain their But if the fresh waters begin to retire, we shall shortly have never an element left, Then apace, &c.

3. Our déepest waters are now dry land, and Cels are turn'd to serpents there; If old Father Thames plays not the man, then farewel to all our good English Béer. Then apace, &c.

4. The Dutch man hath a thirsty soul, and our Cellars are subject to his call, Let every ••aan then take hold of his Bowl, 'tis pity the German Sea should have all, Then apace, &c.

5. Summon all the brave Lads then that love to be merry, and let every man lay his hand on the bowl, And swear we'l compel them to finde us old Sherry, that so stily our Bully March-beer have stole, Then apace, &c.

6. Why should we stay here then, and perish with thirst? to the New: world i'th Moon away let us go; For if the Dutch Colony get thither first, 'tis a hundred to one but they'l drain that too Then apace, &c.

A Song in praise of Canary.

LIsten I pray, to the words I've to say, in memory firm and certain, Rich wine doth us raise, to y^e honor of the boys Quod non sacere desertim.

2. Of all the juice, that the Gods do produce, Sack shall be preferred before 'nm: It's Sack that shall, create us all, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, Virorum.

3. We abandon Ale, and Béer that is stale, Rosa-solis, and damnable Hum; But we will track, in the praise of Sack, against Omne quod exit in um.

4. This is the wine in former time,

each wisest of the Magi, Was wont to car••uze, and frolitkly bowze, Recubans sub regmine fagi.

5. Let the hoy be their bain, and the Pox be their pain, let the Gout and the Collick pins 'um, That offer to shrink from taking this Drink, Seu Graeecum, sive Latinum.

6. Let the Glass go round, let the Quart-por sound let each man do as he's done to; Abaunt you that hug, the aborninable Jugg, 'mongst us Hetaroclita sunto.

7. Sack's onely divine, Béer's draff for a swine, there's no such mud as Ale is; In which they y wallow, a ••ox take their swal∣low, Sunt Talpa Dama Canalis.

8. There's no such disease, as he y^t doth please, with Ale and Béer for to shame us: Its Sack makes us sing, Hi-ding, a-ding, ding Musa Apollo major•• Canamus.

9. When I've Sack in my brain, I'm in a mer∣ry vain, and this my onely bliss is: He that it most wise I can him despise, Mecum consertur Ulysses.

10. How it clears the drain? how it warms how against all crosses it arms us? how 'it makes him thats poor couragious & roan the vein Et mu••a••us dicere formas.

11. Give me my boy, my delight and my joy, to the Lad that never drinks Ale, By Sack he that clapsus, into our Syntaxis, Est verbum personale.

12. Art thou sick or lame, or are thy wits in blame? call for Sack, and thou shalt have it: Then do not rise, but be very wise, Cui una natura negabit.

12. We have merry-go downs, we have jovial rounds, yet nothing ••omes at random; When you come to pay, do you shrink away, Id est commune notandum.

14. He that drinks still and ne're has his fill, has a passage like a Conduit? He still doth aspire, his rapture's on fire, Si Aethera Aethera fundit.

15. I have told you plain, and I tell you again be he as mad as Orlando, He is but an Ass: and so let him pass, Nisi bibit ostia stando.

The Protecting Brewer.

A Brewer may be a Burgess grave, and carry the matter so fine and so brave, That he the better may play the knave, which no body can deny.

2. A Brewer may be a Parliament-man, For there the knavery first began,

And brew most cunning Plots he can, which, &c.

3. A Brewer may put on a Nabal face, And march to the wars with such a grace, That he may get a Captains place, which, &c.

4. A Brewer may speak so monstrous well, That he may raise strange things to tell, And so be made a Colonel, which, &c.

5. A Brewer may make his foes to flée, And raise his fortunes, so that he, Lieutenant-General may be, which, &c.

6. A Brewer may be like a Fox in a Cub, And teach a Lecture out of a Tub, And give the wicked world a rub, which, &c.

7. A Brewer by's Excise and Rate, Will promise his Army he knows what, And set it upon the Colledge-gate, which, &c.

8. Methinks I hear one say to me,

Pray why may not a Brewer be, Lord Chancellor o'th Vniversity, which, &c.

10. A Brewer may be as bold as a Hector, When he has drunk off his Cup of Nector, And a Brewer may be a Lord Protector, which, &c.

11. Now here remains the strangest thing, How this Brewer about his liquor doth bring To be an Emperor, or a King, which, &c,

12. A Brewer may do what he thinks well, Rob the Church and State, to sell His soul unto the Devil of Hell, which, &c.

Cromwel's Coronation.

OLiver, Oliver, take up thy Crown, for now thou hast made thrée Kingdoms thine own; Call thée a Conclave of thy own creation, to ride us to ruine, who dares thée oppose? Whilst we thy good people are at thy devotion to fall down and worship thy terrible Noss.

2. To thée and thy Mermydons Oliver, we do tender our homage as fits thy degrée, We'l pay thée Excise and Taxes, God bless us, with fear & contrition, as penitents should,

Whilst you great sirs, vouchsafe to oppress us, not daring so much as in private to scold.

3. We bow down, as cow'd down, to thée and thy Sword, for now thou hast made thy self Englands sol, Lorde By Mandate of scripture, & heavenly warrant the Oath of Allegiance, and Covenant too: To Charls and his Kingdoms thou art Heir apparent, and born to reign over the Turk and the Iew

3. Then Oliver, Oliver, get up and ride, whilst Lords, Knights, and Gentry do run by thy side, The Ma••lsters and Brewers account it their glory, Great God of the grain-tub's compared to thée All Rebels of old are lost in their story, till then plad'st along to the Paddington-trée

A Medley of the Nations.

The Scot.

I Am the bonny Scot sir, my name is Mickle John; 'Tis I was in the Plot Sir, When first the Wars began: I left the Court one thousand Six hundred forty one; But since the flight

At Worster sight We are aw undone. I serv'd my Lord and Master, When as he liv'd at home, Vntil by sad disaster He receiv'd his doom; But now we sink, Vds bred I think The Déel's gat in his room: He ne man spares, But stamps and stares At all Christendom.

2. I have travel'd mickle grounds, Since I came from Worster bounds I have gang'd the jolly rounds Of the neighbouring Nations; And what their opinion are, Of the Scotch and English war, In géed faith I sal declare, And their approbations. Jockey swears He has his load, Bears the rod, Come from God, And complaints go very odd Since the siege at Worster; We were wounded

Tag and rag, Foot and lag, Wemb and crag, Hark I hear the Dutch-man brag, And begin to bluster.

The Dutch.

3. Vds Sacrament, sal Hogen Mogen States Strike down der top sails unto puny Powers? Ten two and tun os Tivel Dammy Fates, If dat her Ships and Goods prove not all ours Since da•• bloot and wounds do delight dem, Tantarara Trumpet sounds, Let Van Trump go fort and fight dem, Oldest States shall first be crown'd, English Skellam fight not on godt side; But at last the Flemings beat, Dey ha' giv'n us sush a broad side; Dat ick sal be forc't to retreat, Sée de French man he comes in compleat.

The French.

4. By Gar Mounsieur 'tis mush in vain, For Dushland, France, or Spain, To cross de English man; De Nation now is grown so strong, De Devla e'rt be long Must learna de same tongue, 'Tis bet••a den far to combine, To sel dem Wine,

And teash a dem to make her La••p fine; We'l teash dem for to trip and minsh, To kick and winsh, For by de Sword we never sal convince, Since every Brewer dere can beat a Prince.

The Spaniard.

5. What are the English to quarrel so prone, Dat dey cannot now adays let deir neighbor a∣lone And sal de Grave & the Catholick King Before ever dus control'd wid a sword & a sling Sal bode de Indias be left unto de sway, And purity a dose dat do plunder and pray; E're dat we will suffer such affronts for to be, We'l tumble dem down, as you sal sentor sée.

The Welsh.

6. Taffy was once a Cottamighty of Wales, Put her Cosin O. P. was a Kreater, Was come in her country Cu ••sspluttery nails Was took her welch hook and was peather; Was eat up her Shéese, Her Turk, and her Géese, Her Pick, her Capon was ty for't; Ap Richard, ap Owen, ap Morgan, ap Steven Ap Shinkin, ap Powel, was fly for't.

The Irish.

7. O hone, O hone, poor Teg and shone, O hone, may howl and cry,

St. Patrick help dy Countrey men, Or fait and trot we dye; De English steal our hoart of Usquebagh, Dey put us to de sword all in Dewguedagh: Help us St. Patrick we ha no saint at all but dée O let us cry no more, O hone, a cram, a cree!

The English.

8. A Crown, a crown, make room, The English man is come, Whose valor Is taller Than all Christendome: The Spanish, French, and Dutch, Scotch, Welsh, and Irish grutch, We fear not, We care not, For we can deal with such. you thought when we began in a civil war to waste, Dur Tillage Your Pillage Should come home at last: For when we Could not agrée, You thought to share in our fall; But nere stir Sir, For first Sir, We shall Nose yau all.

The Royalists Answer to, Nay prithee don't fly me,

I Have reason to fly thée, And not sit down by thée For I hate to behold, One so sawey and bold, To deride and contemn his Superiors, Our Madams and Lords, And such mannerly words, With the gestures that be Fit for every degrée, Are things that we and you Both claim as our due From all those that are our Inferiors, For from the begining there were Princes we know 'T was you Levellers hate'um, 'cause you can't be so

2. All Titles of Honors Were at the first in the Donors, But being granted away With the Grantées stay, If he wear a small soul or bigger. There's a necessity That there should be degrée. Where 'tis due we'l afford A Sir John, and my Lord, Though Dick, Tom, and Jack, Will serve you and your Pack,

Honest Dick's name enough for a Digger. He that has a strong Purse can all things say or do, He is valiant and wise, & religious too.

3. We have cause to adore, That man that has store, Though a Bore or a Sot, There's something to be got; Though he be neither honest nor wittn, Make him high, let him rule, He'l he playing the fool, And transgress, then we'l squéeze Him for Fines and for Fées, And so we shall gain, By the wants of his brain, 'Tis the Fools-cap that maintains the City. If honor be air, 'tis in common, and as fit, For the fool and the clown, as for the champion or the wit.

4. Then why mayn't we be Of different degrée? And each man aspire To be greater and higher, Than his wiser or honester brother? Since Fortune and Nature Their favors do scatter; This hath valor, that wit, T'other wealth, nor is't fit, That one should have all, For then what would befall

Him that's born nor to one nor to'ther? Though honor were a prize at first, now 'tis a chattle, And as merchantable grown as your wares or your cattle.

5. Yet in this we agrée, To live quier and frée, To drink Sack and submit, And not shew your wit By our prating, but silence, and thinking, Let the Politick Iews, Read Diurnals and News, And lard their discourse, With a Comment that's worse, That which pleaseth me best Is a Song or a Iest, And my obedience I'le shew by my drinking He that drinks wel, does sleep wel, he that sleeps well, doth think well, He that drinks well, does do well, he that does well, must drink well.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Gen. Monck