University of Virginia Library

The third part of the fourth Edition to the five Senses, or Sence aforesaid.

Ile say no more, but what I mean to speak,
And speaking what I say shall silence break.
Mumbudget, let no words be utter'd neither,
Let's seperate our speeches close together.
Reach my fierce flye-flap, Van Trump, stand aloofe,
My Arms and Armour's close Committee Proofe;
Give me a Butterbox with not on rag on,
I'le pickle him like to a Dutch flap Draggon:
An Ordinance of Parliament shall scatter ye,
Our Ordinance is Ordnance, that can batter ye.
Me vat a whee, is Cambria Brittish French,
Dick shifts a Trencher, but Tom keeps the Trench.
An Annagram is John King, and King John,
Five quarters of one year is four to one:
May not a Miser wille a poor mans want,
And give him lodging, cloathing, and provant,
And hang himselfe, and give the Devill his due,
Perhaps the Newes is too good to be true.
I care not where mine Hostess, and mine Host lie,
T'have meat and drink for nothing, is not costly.
I could have written mad verse, sad verse, glad verse,
But you shall be contented now with bad verse;
I neither weep or sing of sweet Rebellion,
Or story old I list not now to tell ye on:
The Royall mad Lancastrians, and Yorkists
Scare harm'd so much as some cornuted Forkists,
The most uncivill civill Goths and Vandals
Did not on their owne Countrey bring such scandals.
The Turks, the Iews, the Canibals and Tartars
Ne're kept such wicked, rude, unruly quarters.
Ierusalems, Eleazer, Iohn, and Simon
Did ne're yield Poet baser stuff to rime on.
Like bloudy Sylla, and consuming Marius,
One mischiefe did into another carry us.
Amongst all Trades (some thousands zealous Widgeons)
Were hardly more in number then Religions.
In Preachers Roomes were Preach'd, for which I woe am,
The basest people Priests like Ieroboam.
That one may say of London, what a Town is't?
It harbours in it many a Corbraind Brownist:
Tis scatter'd full of Sects, alas how apt is't
To be a Familist, or Anabaptist!
Whilst Knaves (of both sides) with Religions Mantle,
Have rifled England by patch, piece, and Cantle;
That I may say of thee O London, London,
What hath thy Wealth, Wit, Sword, & furious Gun done?
And what hath many a mothers wicked son done?
Whereby (against their wills) there's many undone.
Thrice happy had it been for our tranquility,
If th'Authours of this incivility
Had been a little check'd by Gregory Brandon,
With each of them a hempen twisted band on.