Tun'd to the highest key of ancient Rome, O.V MR. EDY. SPENCER, The more to procure me, then he did adjure me If the ale I dranke last were nappy and stale, To do it its right, and stir up my sprite, And fall to commend a &c. Lest therein my credit might happen to faile; For many men now do count it a sin, But once to look toward a &c. “ Yet I care not a pin, for I see no such sin, Nor any thing else my courage to quaile: For, this we do find, that take it in kind, Much vertue there is in a &c. “ And I mean not to taste, though thereby much grac't, Nor the merry-go-down without pull or bale, Perfuming the throat, when the stomack's afloat, With the fragrant sweet seut of a &c. FAMOUS POET. Ar Delphos' shrine, one did a doubt propound, Which by th' oracle must be released, Whether of poets were the best renown'd: Those that survive, or they that are deceased ? The gods made answer by divine suggestion, While Spencer is alive, it is no question. ON MICHAEL DRAYTON, BURIED IN WESTMINSTER. Doe, pious marble, let thy readers know, What ihey, and what their children ow To Drayton's sacred name, whose dust We recommend unto thy trust. Protect his memory, preserve his story, And a lasting monument of his glory; And when thy ruines shall disclaime To be the treasury of his name, « Nor yet the delight that comes to the sight, To see how it fowers and mantles in graile, As greene as a leeke, with a smile in the cheeke, The true orient colour of a &c. “ But I meane the mind, and the good it doth find; Not only the body, so feeble and fraile : Por body and soule may blesse the black bowle, Since both are beholden to a &c. " Por, when heavinesse the mind doth oppresse, And sorrow and griefe the heart do assaile, No remedy quicker than to take off your liquor, and to wash away cares with a &c. “ The widow that buried her husband of late, Will soon have forgotten to weep and to waile, And thinke ev'ry day twaine, till she marry againe, If she read the contents of a &c. OV THE TOMBES IN WESTMINSTER. Here's a world of pomp and state “ It is like a belly-blast to a cold heart, And warms, and engenders the spirits vitale, To keep them from domage, all sp'rits owe their To the sp'rite of the buttery, a &c. (honiage “ And down to the legs the vertue doth go, And to a bad foot-man is as good as a saile ; When it fils the veines, and makes light the braines, No lackey so nimble as a &c. “ The naked complains not for want of a coat, Nor on the cold weather will once turne his taile; All the way as he goes he cuts the wind with his If he be but well wrapt in a &c. [pose, “ The hungry man takes no thought for his meat, Tho’his stomach would brook a ten-penny naile ; He quite forgets bunger, thinks on it no longer, If he touch but the sparkes of a &c. quaile, With a crust of brown bread, and a &c. “ The shepheard, the sower, the thresher, the mower, (flaile, The one with his scyth, the other with his Take them out by the poll, on the perill of my sol, All will hold up their bands to a &c. THE EX-ALE-TATION OF ALE. Nor drunken, nor sober, but neighbour to both, I met with a friend in Ales-bury vale; To speake no great harme of a pot of good ala. Then did he me greet, and said, “ Since we meet" (And he put me in mind of the name of the dale) " For Ales-bury's sake some paines I would take, And not bury-the praise of a pot of good ale." « The black-smith, whose bellows all summer do “ And the musician, of any condition, blow, It will make bim reach to the top of his scale : With the fire in his face still, without e're a raile, It will cleare bis pipes, and moisten his liglits, Though his throat be full dry. be will tell you a lye, If he drink alternatim a &c. But where you may be sure of a &c. “'The poet divine, that cannot reach wine, “Who ever denies it, the pris’ners will praise it, Because that his money doth many times faile, That beg at the grate, and lye in the goale : Will hit on the veine to make a good streine, For, even in their fetters, they thinke theinselves If he be but inspired with a &c. better, “ For ballads Elderton' never had prere, [gale; May they get but a two penny black pot of ale. How went his wit in them, with how merry a “The begger, whose portion is alwaies bis prayers, And with all the sailes up, had he been at the cup, And washed his beard with a &c. Not having a tatter to hang on his taile, Is as rich in his rags, as the churle in his bags, “ Aud the power of it shows, no whit lesse in prose, If he once but shakes hands with a &c. It will ile one's phrase, and set forth his tale : Fill him but a boule, it will make his tongue troule, * It drives his poverty cleane out of mind, For flowing speech flows from a &c. Forgeiting his brown bread, his wallet, and inaile; He walks in the house like a six-footed louse, “And master philosopher, if he drinke his part, If once he be enricht with a &c. Will not trifle his time in the huske or the shale, " And he that doth dig in the ditches all day, But go to the kernell uy the depth of bis art, To be found in the bottuine of a &c. And wearies himselfe quite at the ploigh-taile, Will speake no less things than of queens and of “ Give a scholar of Oxford a pot of sixteen, If he touch but the top of a &c. [kings, And put him to prove that an ape hath no taile, And sixteen times better his wit will be seen, “ ?Tis like a whetstone to a blunt wit, And makes a supply where nature doth faile: If you fetch bim froin Botly a &c. The dullest wit sooo will look quite thro' the Moon, “ Thus it helps speech and wit: and it hurts not If his temples be wet with a &c. a whit, But rather doth further the virtues morale, The good morall parts of a &c. “ To the church and religion it is a good friend, * And it makes the carter a conrtier straight-way, That at every mile, next to the church stile, Or else our fore-fathers their wisdome did faile, Witb rhetoricall termes he will tell his tale; With courtesies great store, and his cap up before, Set a consecrate bonse to a &c. Being school'd but a little with a &c. “ But now, as they say, beere beares it away; The inore is the pitiy, if right might prevaile : “ The old man, whose tongue wags faster than his Hor, with this same beer, came up heresie here, teeth, The old catholic drinke is a &c. For when they be drooping and ready to fall, By a Whitson or Church-ale up againe they shall “ And the good old clarke, whose sight waxeth Aud ove their repairing to a &c. [go, And ever he thinkes the print is to small, [darke, He will see erery letter, and say service better, “ Truth will do it right, it brings truth to light, If be glaze but his eyes with a &c. And many bad matters it helps to reveale: Four, then that will drinke, will speake what they “ The cheekts and the jaws to coinmend it have Toon tell-troth lies hid in a &c. [thiuke; cause ; For where they were late but even wan and pale, “ It is justice's friend, she will it commend, They will get theni a colour, nu crimson is fuller, For all is here served by measure and tale: By the true die and tincture of a &c. Now true-cale and good measure are justice's And inuch to the praise of a &c. (treasure, “ Marke hes ennemies, though they thinke themselves wise, “ And next I allcadre, it is fortitude's edge: How meagre they lnok, with how low a waile, For a very cow-beard, that shrinkes like a snaile, How their cheeks do fall, without sp'rits at all, Will sweare and will swagger, and out gors his That alien their minds froin a &c. If he be but arm'd with a &c. [dagger, " And now that the grains do worke in my brains, “ Yea, ale hath her knights and squires of degree, Me thinks I were able to give by retaile That never wore corslet, nor yet shirt of maile, Commodlities store, a dozen and more, But have fought their fights all, 'twixt the pot and That flow to ipankind from a &c. the wall, When once they were dubb'd with a &c. " The Muses would muse any should it misuse : For it makes them to sing like a nightingale, With a lofty trim note, having washed their throat " A drunken balladmaker, of whom see "l'arton's With the caballine spring of a &c. Hist. of Poetry, vol. iv. p. 40, 41. C. "And sure it will make a man suddenly wise, E're while was scarce able to tell a right tale: It will open his jaw, he will tell you the law, As made a right bencher of a &c. "Or he that will make a bargaine to gaine, In buying or setting his goods forth to sale, The matter goes hard and few do prevaile Such is the attractive of a &c. "But here's an amends, which will make all friends, And ever doth tend to the best availe; If you take it too deep, it will make you but sleep; So comes no great harme of a &c. "If (reeling) they happen to fall to the ground, The fall is not great, they may hold by the raile : If into the water, they cannot be drown'd, For that gift is given to a &c. "If drinking about they chance to fall out, Feare not the alarm, though flesh be but fraile, It will prove but some blows, or at most a blondy And friends againe straight with a &c. [nose, "And physic will favour ale as it is bound, "And in very deed the hop's but a weed, Brought o're against law, and here set to sale: Would the law were renew'd, and no inore beere But all good men betake them to a &c. [biew'd, "The law, that will take it under her wing: For, at every law-day, or moot of the hale, One is sworne to serve our soveraigue the king, In the ancient office of a conner of ale. "There's never a lord of mannor or of town, By strand or by land, by hill or by dale, But thinks it a franchise, and a flow'r of the crown, To hold the assize of a &c. "And though there lie writs, from the courts paramount, To stay the proceedings of the courts paravaile; Law favours it so, you may come, you may go, There lies no prohibition to a &c. "They talke much of state both early and late, But if Gascoign and Spain their wine should but No remedy then, with us Englishmen, "The north they will praise it, and praise it with passion, Where every river gives name to a dale: There men are yet living that are of th' old fashion, No nectar they know but a &c. "The Picts and the Scots for ale were at lots, So high was the skill, and so kept under scale: The Picts were undone, slain each mother's son, For not teaching the Scots to make hether eale. "But hither or thither, it skils not much whether: "Now, if you will say it, I will not denay it, "Yet let not the innocent beare any blame, It is their own doings to breake o're the pale : And neither the malt, nor the good wife in fault, If any be potted with a &c. They tell whom it kills, but say not a word, How many a man liveth both sound and hale, Though he drinke no bcere any day in the yeare, By the radicall humour of a &c. "But, to speake of killing, that om I not willing; "Too many (I wis) with their deaths proved this, And found his beere far more bitter than ale. "O ale ab olendo! thou liquor of life! That I had but a mouth as big as a whale! For mine is too little to touch the least tittle That belongs to the praise of a &c. "Thus, I trow, some vertues I have marked you And never a vice in all this long traile, [out, But that after the pot there cometh a shot, And that's th' only blot of a &c." With that my friend said, "That blot will I beare, You have done very well, it is time to strike saile, Wee'l have six pots more, tho' I die on the score, To make all this good of a pot of good ale." THE GOOD FELLOW. [faile, WHEN shall we meet againe to have a taste But the state it must stand by a &c. "And they that sit by it are good men and quiet, No dangerous plotters in the common-weale Of treason and murder: for they never go further Than to call for, and pay for, a &c. "To the praise of Gambrivius, that good British king, [tale) That devis'd for his nation (by the Welshmen's Seventeen hundred yeares before Christ did spring, The happy invention of a &c. Of that transcendent ale we dranke of last? My head was ever drooping, and my nose My pock-hole face, they say, appear'd to some THE VERTUE OF SACK. FETCH Me Ben Johnson's scull, and fill't with sack, It was no sin to be as drunk as he : Welcome, by thee my Muse begins her scapes, Were sure mine own, and I have thought a way For justice, and am full of law withall, And do become the bench as well as he [prose, That would preach down thy worth in small-beere CANTO, IN THE PRAISE OF SACK. LISTEN all, I pray, To the words I have to say, In memory sure insert 'um: Rich wines do us raise To the honour of baies, Quem non fecere disertum? Of all the juice Which the gods produce, Sack shall be preferr'd before them; 'Tis sack that shall Create us all, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, virorum. We abandon all ale, And beere that is stale, Which, in former time, Recubans sub tegmine fagi. Let the hop be their bane, And a rope be their shame, Let the gout and collick pine 'um, That offer to shrink, In taking their drink, Let the glasse go round, Let each one do as he's done to: There's no such disease, His palate with beere for to shame us : Musa paulo majora canamus. He is either mute, Or doth poorly dispute, That drinks ought else but wine 0: Tantum valet ille loquendo. 'Tis true, our soules, By the lowsie bowles Of beere that doth nought but swill us, Do go into swine, (Pythagoras, 'tis thine) Nam vos mutastis & illos. When I've sack in my braîne, I'm in a merry veine, And this to me a blisse is: I can justly despise: How it cheares the brains, How against all crosses it arms us! How it makes him that's poore Et mutatas dicere formas. Give me the boy, My delight and my joy, To my tantum that drinks his tale: By sack that he waxes In our syntaxes, Est verbum personale. Art thon wake or lame, Or thy wits too blame? Call for sack, and thou shalt have it, "Twill make thee rise, And be very wise, Cui vim natura negavit. We have frolic rounds, We have merry go downs, Yet nothing is done at raudome; For when we are to pay, Id est commune notandum. The blades that want cash Have credit for crash, They'll have sack, whatever it cost 'um ; They do not pay Till another day, Manet alta mente repostum. Who ne'er failes to drink He that drinks still, And never hath his fill, Hath a passage like a conduit, The sack doth inspire In rapture and fire, Sic æther æthera fundit. When you merrily quaffe, And then from you needs will passe ye, And kick them in the britch, Nam componuntur ab asse. I have told you plain, And tell you again, Be he furious as Orlando, He is an asse That from hence doth passe, Nisi bibit ab ostia stando. THE ANSWER OF ALE TO THE CHALLENGE OF SACK. COME, all you brave wights, ́ That are dubbed ale-knights, Now set out yourselves in sight: And let them that crack In the praises of sack, Know malt is of mickle might, Though sack they define To boly divine, Yet it is but naturall liquor: Ale bath for its part An addition of art, To make it drinke thinner or thicker. Sack's fiery fume Doth waste and consume Men's humidum radicale; It scaldeth their livers, It breeds burning feavers, Proves vinum veneaum reale. But history gathers, From aged forefathers, That ale's the true liquor of life: Men liv'd long in health, And preserved their wealth, Whil'st barley-broth only was rife. Sack quickly ascends, And suddenly ends What company came for at first: And that which yet worse is, It empties men's purses Before it balfe quencheth their thirst. Ale is not so costly, Although that the most lye Too long by the oyle of barley; Yet may they part late At a reasonable rate, Though they came in the morning early. |