Classic Poem

In spir'd with high and mighty Ale,
That does with stubborn Muse prevail:
Ale, that makes Tinker mighty Witty,
And makes him Droll out merry Ditty:
Ale, that much strengthens Pedlar's Back,
And makes him lightly trudge with Pack:
With Ale that makes e'en Hunting Sweet,
When Hunters after damn'd Falls meet,
And o'er Black Pot together set,
All that day's Accidents repeat:
In Rhyme I greet my Friend in Town,
From Hall yclepped Chaderton :
Parenthesis is some what long,
But that excus'd in Verse or Song.
I did salute Friend with Epistle,
Which has by this time wiped his Tayl;
But he when Letters to him come,
With wise Italian , answers Mum.
Thus by the way I gently Dun ye
For Letter that is due, not Money:
I'm drinking now with Lusty Parson ,
Such as in London there is scarce one;
'Tis true, in Latin they may quell him,
For Alum Stalum non est Malum ,
Is all the Latin he can Conster,
Who in his drink is a meer Monster,
He out-does Clements , the World's wonder,
Nay more, he can make me knock under
Nor cou'd I e'er be forc'd to say
White C — — t I love thee, 'till this day;
But that he's now out of my reach,
To be reveng'd, I'd hear him Preach:
Were there of strong Ale here a full pit,
He'd make no more down Throat to gulp it,
Than belch out Uses in a Pulpit.
Which he can do when e'er he will,
Easily as I can Shite with Pill.
In fine, this Priest has mighty Pow'r
At Supernaculum, and drinks more
At six Go-downs on Reputation,
Than e'er a Levite in the Nation.
But now to leave off Country Story,
Which tediously I've laid before ye,
Pray let me know what's done in City,
Among the Brisk, the Gay, the Witty:
If at the Theatres they talk aloud,
And about Whores in Vizards crowd;
If they break Windows when they're Drunk,
And at late hours, wake Whetstone 's Punk,
That has all day been hard at Service,
With Clerk and Prentice, Tim and Gervas ,
If being with powerful Drink made able,
Like doubty Knights, they Assault Constable.
What Poets now with Plays or Farces:
To whipping Criticks, turn up Arses;
Criticks that Damn with little Wit
As Ned , or Fleckno ever writ;
This and that, what other News in Town
Occurs, take pains and send it down,
While you of Stum, Alom and Sloes,
Molossus, Arsnick, Lime, take Dose,
From Roguy Vinter, and do venture
Your Life, when you in Tavern enter;
In White-wine, Claret, Sack, or Hockum,
Beyond the cure of Doctor Stockum ,
And pay dear for't: We can Carouse
For Harry Groat, in low Thatch-house,
With Country Justice, or with Squire,
With sleek Black-pot o'er good Coal-fire,
Like your true Englishmen in Ale,
That Wholsom, Nappy, Clear and Stale.
While you to Chloris , or to Phillis ,
(Who's as Expensive as Su Willis ,)
Must Cringe, and humbly vail your Bonnet,
And full of Wine and Love, make Sonnet:
For Treat of Ale, or at most Brandy,
We can have wholsom Lass that's handy,
That will lye down with all her heart:
Here Love is Nature, there 'tis Art,
Whilst you of Politics talk much
Of Jealousies 'twixt French and Dutch;
Of setting Fleet out, raising Forces,
And talk of Dogs, and Hawks, and Horses.
Instead of Phillis , or of Chloris ,
Who with you no better than a Whore is
We here remember in full Can,
Dear Jowler, Ruffler, Towser, Vulcan,
Or Dog that is of high Renown,
That famous Mouth, or Nose does own:
Which sure is much a worthier Creature,
Than London Punk of brightest Feature
But now 'tis late, Post will not stay,
But like old Time, will flye away;
To Morrow he's to dust a Stand,
That is your Servant to Command.