The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts By the Author of the Trip to Jamaica [i.e. Edward Ward] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. | [Part V.] |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
 | The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts |  |
113
V. [Part V.]
[Who can such Blessings, when they're found resign?]
Who
can such Blessings, when they're found resign?
An Honest Vintner, Faithful to the Vine;
A Spacious Room, Rare Painting, and Good Wine?
An Honest Vintner, Faithful to the Vine;
A Spacious Room, Rare Painting, and Good Wine?
Such Tempting Charms what Mortal ean avoid?
Where such Perfections are at once enjoy'd,
Who can be Dull, or who be ever Cloy'd?
Where such Perfections are at once enjoy'd,
Who can be Dull, or who be ever Cloy'd?
If you would Love, see there fair Pallas stands,
How Chaste her Looks? How Fine her Breasts and Hands?
Her Eyes raise Wonder, and your Heart Commands.
How Chaste her Looks? How Fine her Breasts and Hands?
Her Eyes raise Wonder, and your Heart Commands.
If you to Wit or Musick wou'd aspire,
Gaze at the Nine, that Blest Harmonious Quire,
They'll Kindle in your Thoughts new sparks of Fire.
Gaze at the Nine, that Blest Harmonious Quire,
They'll Kindle in your Thoughts new sparks of Fire.
If to the Warlike Mars you'd be a Friend,
And learn to bravely Conquer and Defend,
See Ajax and Ulysses there Contend.
And learn to bravely Conquer and Defend,
See Ajax and Ulysses there Contend.
If neither Love nor Arms your Fancy Suit;
Nor wish to be Wise, Musical or Stout;
Here Wine will make you truly Blest without.
Nor wish to be Wise, Musical or Stout;
Here Wine will make you truly Blest without.
115
[May the Cockroach and Moth]
May
the Cockroach and Moth,
Eat such Holes in their Cloth,
That the Prime-Cost may never return in;
But must all be laid by,
For a Black Rusty Dye,
Fit for Dead-mongers Lacquays to Mourn-in.
Eat such Holes in their Cloth,
That the Prime-Cost may never return in;
But must all be laid by,
For a Black Rusty Dye,
Fit for Dead-mongers Lacquays to Mourn-in.
116
May their Second-band Stocks,
Of Coats, Breeches and Cloakes,
Hang by till they're quite out of Fashion;
And like Userers Bags,
May they Rot into Rags,
And Provoke the Damn'd Knaves to a Passion.
Of Coats, Breeches and Cloakes,
Hang by till they're quite out of Fashion;
And like Userers Bags,
May they Rot into Rags,
And Provoke the Damn'd Knaves to a Passion.
May their Taylor, ne'er Trust,
Nor their Servants prove just;
And their Wives and their Families vex 'em:
May their Foreheads all Ake,
And their Debtors all Break;
And their Consciences daily perplex 'em.
Nor their Servants prove just;
And their Wives and their Families vex 'em:
May their Foreheads all Ake,
And their Debtors all Break;
And their Consciences daily perplex 'em.
With their Whores may they Sport,
Till their Noses fall short,
And have none but a Quack to come nigh 'em;
And in Fluxing become
Lame, Deaf, Blind, and Dumb,
That a Man may walk quietly by 'em.
Till their Noses fall short,
And have none but a Quack to come nigh 'em;
And in Fluxing become
Lame, Deaf, Blind, and Dumb,
That a Man may walk quietly by 'em.
| The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts | |