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107

Song XXXIII. The Answer to the Curse against Ale.

1

O Gag for shame that strumpet muse!
Let not her Spanish tongue abuse
Our wholsome and Heroick English juice.

2

'Twas not this loyal liquor shut
Our Gates against our Soveraign, but
Strange drinks into one tub together put.

3

When Ale was drink Canonical,
There were no theeves, nor watch, nor wall,
Men neither stole, nor lack'd, for Ale was all.

4

That Poet ought be dry or dumb,
And to our brown-bowls never come,
Who drinking Ale, vents only dregs and scum.

5

Nor had that Souldier drunk enough,
For Ale both valour gives and buffe,
Makes men unkickable, and cudgel-proof.

6

'Twas the meal, not meal-man, was the cause
The mill fell down; for one small clause
In one meal-act, hath overthrown our lawes.

7

The worth of Ale none can proclaim,
But by th'assistance of the same,
From it our Land derives its noblest name.

180

3

But now my youth and pride are gone,
And age and cares come creeping on,
And business checks my love;
What need I take a needless toyle,
To spend my labour, time and oyl,
Since no design can move.
For now the cause is ta'n away,
What reason ist th'effect should stay?

4

'Tis but a folly now for me,
To spend my time and industry,
About such useless wit;
For when I think I have done well,
I see men laugh, but cannot tell,
Where't be at me, or it.
Great madness 'tis to be a drudge,
When those that cannot write, dare judge.

5

Besides the danger that ensu'th,
To him that speaks, or writes the truth,
The prœmium is so small,
To be called Poet, and wear bayes,
And Factor turn of Songs and Playes,
This it no wit at all.
Wit only good to sport and sing,
's a needless and an endless thing.

6

Give me the Wit that can't speak sense,
Nor read it, but in's own defence,
Ne'r learn'd but of his Grannum,
He that can buy, and sell, and cheat,

181

May quickly make a shift to get,
His thousand pound per annum.
And purchase without much ado,
The Poems and the Poet too.