 | Poems by Matthew Stevenson |  |
35
Upon a Pye lin'd with a couple of Geese, and Norfolk Lincks, after long expecting sent by the Carts.
Your pair of Passengers in a Sedand,Of Pye-Crust, came at last, safe to my hand.
Your Geese excuse You (Tom) and for this reason,
Though they came scarce in time, they came in season.
But why, with Chains did You their bodies truss?
What? were they Wild-Geese, that You bound them thus
To th' good behaviour? or did you fear
They should out-run the water colour'd beer?
They were so linckt, methought at first surprize,
They lookt like Felons, bound for Thetford Size.
And to be sure, not knowing what might fall,
You sent them too some tune, Castle, and all.
They came but slow, and well they might be slack,
That snail-like, brought their house upon their back.
To apprehend them (Cook) I hope, if we
Out-rage the Walls, 'twill be no Burglary?
What murther did these Geese, that for their pains
They are condemn'd thus to be hang'd in Chains.
Is this the fruit of Your new Norwich Charter,
To hang, and draw, and send to us for quarter?
Their innocence had sure for mercy stroven,
But, 'tis (alas) no gaping 'gainst an Oven.
Much less a cholerick Cook, who well we know,
Will see them Pye-bak'd e're he let them go.
Your Letter has indicted them at large,
But, at the Dolphin, there we found the charge.
36
We had the Coffin, and the Carcasses.
Whom we dissected, as you may conjecture,
And in requite send this Anatomy Lecture.
| Poems by Matthew Stevenson | |