Works of John Taylor the Water Poet not included in the folio volume of 1630

My Muse is Mounted 'twixt the soaring wings
Of Pegasus, who bravely flies and flings
Through ayre, through clouds, through sun-shine, & descries
Each earthly Regions Rare Varieties.
The numbers infinite, of sundry creatures,
Their strange diversity in formes and Natures,
And as in gliding flight, I swiftly soare
Or'e Sun-burnt Africke, and the Libian shore,
There (with much pleasure) I did cast mine eye
Upon the well-made Horse of Barbarie,
And crossing or'e the Mediterran Maine,
I saw the prauncing Jennet of proud Spaine,
Straight the Iberian fume of Aristippus,
Hurl'd us to Greece, and their I view'd their Hippos.

Then back or'e Italy amaine we flew,
Whereas their fierce Cavallo I did view,
In Naples I the Courser brave espide,
Thence, we or'e Almaine, and low Belgia glide,
There my Muse saw the bounding Palfrey Prance,
From thence my wing'd horse bore me over France
There foaming fiery hot the gallant Gaul,
Did daunce Corantoes with his Frenth Chevall.
Then or'e Hibernia, we tooke speedy flight,
And there the Irish Hobby pleas'd my sight,
Then my Pegasian wings began to flag,
I view'd the English Steed, and Scottish Nag.
And as the heat of blood my Beast inflames
He kick'd and threw me headlong into Thames,
And as I fell, his hoofe bestow'd a wince
Upon my pate, and there's the marke ere since.
The gentle River at my fall did grieve,
Set me on land safe, gave me meanes to live:
And Pegasus inspir'd me with his heele,
That ever since an itching vaine I feele,
Of sprightfull Poesie, though not so well,
As men may say I therein do excell.
But I can do (as many more have done)
Bring Reames of Paper to confusion.
Nor doth my Muse rejoyce in merriments,
Drawne from wits sorded obsceane excrements;

Ile curbe her in, from medling with the State,
Or libelling 'gainst men infortunate,
I meane to keep my eares upon my head,
And on mens miseries I scorne to tread.
I have observ'd no proud man ever yet,
Did any thing but ruine, and hatred get;
I know obedience, and humilitie,
Is best with all belov'd tranquilitie,
I know the lawes guard me from mischiefes Jawes,
Which lawes I love, & those that made those lawes
Nor shall my lines (for things indifferent)
In Church or Common-wealth er'e make a rent.
Thus Pegasus did to Pernassus soare,
And on the Thames I got a healthfull Oare,
Which ofttimes I have us'd, and will againe,
Meane time Ile use the vigour of my braine,
As Homer writ the warres of Mice and Frogs,
So I (his Ape) do write of Beares and Dogs:
Of Bulls, and Bulls begot by word of mouth
Of Horses, and some Tales of age and youth,
And now my Muse againe begins to mount,
The Horses excellency to recount,
You famous Palfreyes of the flaming Sunne,
(That scorn'd the management of Phaeton)
Who with the heat of Sol's bright Axelltree
Caus'd all this under world on fire to be;
(I know the morall meaning of the same,
Is, man should not beyond true reason ayme.)

Let Eous, Phlegon, Æthon, and Piruis,
Apolloes golden Teame Assist my Muse,
But 'tis no matter, keepe your daily course,
Without your aide my wit is nere the worse;
Whilst you are reeking with celestiall sweat
I, of Terrestriall Horses meane to treat.
A Horse (of all the Beasts beneath the skie)
Is best, and most for mans commodity:
His exact making gives the eye delight,
A body brave, lin'd with a noble sprite,
And though he knew no reson, or a mind,
Yet unto man hee's tractably enclin'd,
In dangerous war, the Horse the brunt doth carry,
Where every Rider seemes a Sagitary,
In peace, a Horse for state, for Tilt or Tourney,
For quicke dispatch, or ease in any journey,
For pleasure, carriage, and for husbandry,
The Horse doth furnish our necessity.
The poorest Horse that is, or ever was,
Doth much more service then the golden Asse,
Thats deck'd with borrowed trappings, yet such beasts,
Advance audaciously their brainlesse Crests,
Neere where the Princely Lyon doth resort,
And there in pride and sensuall lust do snort,
Yet can they not outstrip all beasts so farr,
But Wisdomes eye perceives them what they are.
The hunting Horse is of good use for pleasure.
The Sumpter Horse doth understand the treasure.

The Mill-horse hath an endlesse journey (round)
The Pack-horse overladen measures ground,
The Mare and Gelding serves our businesse well,
Whilst (for poore Hackneyes) England is a Hell.
And what's a Horses gaine for all his paine,
But bread, grasse, hay, oats, or such kind of Graine,
That is the summum bonum, he desires,
Through want of which there's many a good Horse tyres.
I have seene Gallants (three parts drunke almost)
Ride, as they meant to see the Devill in post,
And when they to their journies end have come,
Their horses mucky wet, with sweat and foame,
The Riders fall unto their drinking vaine,
The Ostler walkes the Horse a turne or twaine,
Their jawes tyde up unto the empty Racke,
The whilst their Riders smoake, and swallow sack,
Quaffes, capers, sings a Katch, a round, or Ditty,
And leaves the Horse unto the Hostlers pitty,
And so the jades of meat do get such store,
As Lazarus once had at the Gluttons dore.
Thus many a good Horse proves a jade indeed
Being over rid, and want whereon to feed,
All those that to a beast beares such a mind,
I wish them all so served in their kind.
There's many wayes, mens barbarous cruelty,
Doth cause diseases multiplicity
To be in Horses, and the damned Trade
To sell a Botch'd sophisticated jade,

In Smithfield is in practice twice a weeke,
He that beleeves me not, let him go seeke.
There shall he see the ambler made to trot,
The lame and founderd, lusty, (being hot)
The trotter shall be forc'd with ease to amble,
And through the horsemarket shall be such scamble
With galloping, and trotting, ambling, pacing,
Most odious swearing, lying, and out-facing,
Such dawbing horses griefes with counterfeiting,
That hee's a cuuning buyer scapes their cheating.
In ancient times, horses much fame did gaine,
Which Poets and Historians do maintaine:
Besides the swift skie-scalding Pegasus,
Great Alexander had Bucephalus,
Reinoldo had his Bayard, and there are,
Names giv'n to horses, both in peace and war.
But leaving stately horses, it is found
The Bear-garden is circular, or rovnd,
Where Iack-an-Apes his horse doth swiftly run
His circuit, like the horses of the Snn.
And quicke as lightning, his will trace and track,
Making that endlesse round his Zodiacke,
Which Iacke (his Rider) bravely rides a straddle,
And in his hot Careere perfumes the saddle;

Hee's active, and hee's passive in his pace,
And sprung from ancient and approved race,
His grandsires grandsire, was begot perforce,
Between the Night-mare, and the Trojan Horse,
That female Horse of Sinon, in whose wombe
A hundred well-arm'd mad Colts had their roome,
Wch being foald, spoild Troy, with sword & flame,
And from that Jade, our jade descent doth claime,
For (as his parents oft have done before)
He alvvayes keepes a jadish tricke in store.

FJNJS.

Pegasus cast me off his backe, and I fell into the Thames, which was the cause I serv'd an apprenticeship to be a Waterman.

The bad usage of unconscionable riders to horses.

Much cheating in Smithfield, in buying and selling Horses.

Vpon the Bearegarden Horse.

University of Virginia Library

Vpon the goodnesse of a worthinesse of Horses, with a merry touch of the Beare-Garden Palfrey or Jacke-an-Apes his Horse.