Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume VI Part 24

They take our s.h.i.+ps, do what they please, Were ever play'd such Pranks as these, As if we were not Lord o'th' Seas, _Which no Body_, &c.

I told the King on't th' other Day, And how th' Intrigues o'th' matter lay, But Princes will have their own way, _Which no Body_, &c.

The next Man that did widen Throat, Was wight in half pil'd Velvet Coat, But he, and that not worth a Groat, _Which no Body_, &c.

Who being planted next the Door, (Pox on him for a Son of Wh.o.r.e) Inveighs against the Emba.s.sador, _Which no Body_, &c.

Had the King (quoth he) put me upon't, You should have found how I had don't, But now you see what has come on't, _Which no Body_, &c.

Quoth he if such an Act had stood, That was designed for Publick good, 'Thad pa.s.s'd more than is understood, _Which no Body_, &c.

But now forsooth our strictest Laws, Are 'gainst the Friends o'th' good old Cause, And if one Hangs, the other Draws, _Which no Body_, &c.

But had I but so Worthy been, To sit in Place that some are in, I better had advis'd therein, _Which no Body_, &c.

I am one that firm doth stand, For Manufactures of the Land, Then Cyder takes in, out of hand, _Which no Body_, &c.

This _English_ Wine (quoth he) and Ale, Our Fathers drank before the Sale Of Sack on Pothecarys Stall _Which no Body_, &c.

These Outlandish drinks, quoth he, The _French_, and _Spanish_ Foppery, They tast too much of Popery, _Which no Body_, &c.

And having thus their Verdicts spent, Concerning King and Parliament, They Scandalize a Government, _Which no Body_, &c.

An Hierarchy by such a Prince, As may be said without Offence, None e'er could boast more Excellence, _Which no Body_, &c.

G.o.d bless the King, the Queen and Peers, Our Parliament and Overseers, And rid us of such Mutineers, _Which no Body can deny_.

_A_ SATYR _on the Times. To the foregoing Tune._

A World that's full of Fools and Mad-men, Of over-glad, and over-sad Men, With a few good, but many bad Men, _Which no Body can deny_.

So many Cheats and close Disguises, So many Down for one that Rises, So many Fops for one that Wise is, _Which no Body_, &c.

So many Women ugly Fine, Their inside Foul, their outside s.h.i.+ne, So many Preachers few Divines, _Which no Body_, &c.

So many of Religious Sect, Who quite do mis-expound the Text, About ye know not what perplext, _Which no Body_, &c.

Many Diseases that do fill ye, Many Doctors that do kill ye, Few Physicians that do heal ye, _Which no Body_, &c.

Many Lawyers that undo ye, But few Friends who will stick to ye, And other Ills that do pursue ye, _Which no Body_, &c.

So many Tradesmen Lyars, So many cheated Buyers, As even Numeration tyers, _Which no Body_, &c.

So many loose ones and high-flying, Who live as if there were no dying, Heaven and h.e.l.l, and all defying, _Which no Body_, &c.

So many under Scanty Fates, Who yet do live at lofty rates, And make show of great Estates, _Which no Body_, &c.

And if they will not take Offence, Many great Men of little Sense, Who yet to Politicks make Pretence, _Which no Body_, &c.

Many meriting lower Fate, Have t.i.tle, Office, and Estate, Their Betters waiting at their Gate, _Which no Body_, &c.

The Worthless meet with higher Advances, As the Wise bestower Fancies, To the Worthy nothing chances, _Which no Body_, &c.

The Worthy and the Worthless Train, Modest, silent, nothing gain, Impudent begging all obtain, _Which no Body_, &c.

A World wherein is Plenteous store, Of Foppish, Rich, Ingenious Poor, Neglected beg from Door to Door, _Which no Body_, &c.

A World compos'd, 'tis strange to tell, Of seeming Paradise, yet real h.e.l.l, Yet all agree to lov't too well, _Which no Body_, &c.

Where Pious, Lew'd, the Fool, the Wise, The one like to the other dies, And leaves a World of Vanities, _Which no Body_, &c.

Proud and Covetous, Beaus and Bullies, Like one o'your musing Melanchollies, I cry for their Ill's, and laugh at their Follies, _Which no Body can deny_.

LUCINDA _has the Devil and all. By Mr._ H. Hall.

[Music]

_Lucinda_ has the de'el and all, the de'el and all, the de'el and all, Of that bright Thing we Beauty call; But if she won't come to my Arms, What care I, why, what care I, what, what care I for all her Charms?

Beauty's the Sauce to Love's high Meat, But who minds Sauce that must not Eat: It is indeed a mighty Treasure, But in using lies the Pleasure; Bullies thus, that only see't, d.a.m.n all the Gold, d.a.m.n all the Gold, all, all the Gold in _Lombard-street_.

_Queen_ ELIZABETH'S _Farewel_.

[Music]

I'll tell you all, both great and small, I tell you all truly; That we have cause, and very great cause, For to lament and cry, Fye, Oh! fye, oh! fye, oh! fye!

Fye on thee cruel Death!

For thou hast ta'en away from us!

Our Queen _Elizabeth_.

Thou mayst have taken other Folks, That better might be mist; And have let our Queen alone, Who lov'd no Popish Priest: In Peace she rul'd all this Land, Beholding unto no Man, And did the Pope of _Rome_ withstand, And yet was but a Woman.

A Woman said I? nay, that is more, Than any one can tell; So Fair she was, so Chast she was, That no one knew it well!

With that, from _France_ came _Monsieur_ o'er, A purpose for to Wooe her; Yet still she liv'd and Dy'd a Maid, Do what they could unto her.

She never acted any Ill thing, Which made her Conscience p.r.i.c.k her; Nor never would submit to him, That call'd is Christ's Vicar: But rather chose couragiously, To fight under Christ's Banner; 'Gainst _Pope_ and _Turk_, and King of _Spain_, And all that durst withstand her.

But if that I had _Argus's_ Eyes, They were too few to Weep; For our Queen _Elizabeth_, That now is fall'n asleep: Asleep indeed, where she shall rest, Until the Day of Doom: And then she shall rise unto the Shame Of the great Pope of _Rome_.