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Festum Uoluptatis, Or the Banquet of Pleasure

Fvrnished with Mvch Variety of Speculations, Wittie, Pleasant, and Delightfull. Containing divers choyce Love-Posies, Songs, Sonnets, Odes, Madrigals, Satyrs, Epigrams, Epitaphs and Elegies. For varietie and pleasure the like never before published. By S. P. [i.e. Samuel Pick]
 
 

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1. Satyre.
 
 
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1. Satyre.

All haile Tom Tospot, welcome to the coast,
What Paris newes can'st brag of, or make boast?
Thy phisnomy bewrayes thou can'st relate
Some strange exploits attempted in the state.
I know th' ast courted Venus lusting Dames,
'Twas thy intent when thou took'st ship on Thames,
Let's sympathize thy hap, enjoy some sport,
What art thou senselesse, dead-drunke, all a mort?
Gallants this abject object which you see,
Is an old picture of Gentilitie.
With Coriat he travelled hath, by land,
To see Christs Crosse, the Tree where Iudas hang'd,
Divelin and Amsterdam his Sea-crab pace,
With other Countries moe did often trace.
Earths circled orbe, he frequent trudged, went,
With lesse expences then Tom Odcome spent,
With fewer cloaths though furnisht with moe shifts,
With sparing dyet, few received gifts.
Tom had one paire of stockings, shooes, one suite,
But Tospots case Tom Coxcombs doth confute,
For he hath travel'd all earths globe a foot,
Without whole cloaths, good stockin, shooe or boot.
Yet (God be thank't) he is return'd all whole.
Tom had assistants at his Bookes report,
But Tospot travel'd voyd of all consort,
Having no creature with him whiles he slept,
Or walk't, but such as in his bosome crept.
Tospot detests all cloaths, hates new found forme,

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Unlesse it were no cloaths at all were worne.
He is no boasting Thraso which will vant,
Of his adventures, penury and scant.
Yet if you please to read my slender Muse,
I shall describe the humour he doth use:
Tobacco, Botle-ale, hot Pippin-pies:
Such trafficke, Merchandize he daily buyes.
With belly-timber he doth cram his gut,
With double Iugs doth his Orexis glut,
Sweares a God, dam-me for the Tapsters shots,
And may pledge no health lesse then with two pots.
He has a sword to pawne in time of need,
A perfect beggers phrase wherewith to plead,
For maintenance, when his exhausted store,
Is profuse lavisht on some pockie whore.
Tibornes triangle trees will be the thing,
Must send this knave to heaven in a string.