 | The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts
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[To speak but the Truth of my Honest Friend Ned]
To speak but the Truth of my Honest Friend Ned,
The best of all Vintners that ever God made;
He's free of his Beef, and as free of his Bread,
And Washes both down with a Glass of rare Red,
That tops all the Town, and Commands a good Trade,
Such Wine as will chear up the Drooping Kings-Head;
And brisk up the Soul, tho' our Body's half Dead,
He Scorns to Draw Bad, as he hopes to be Paid:
And now his Name's up he may e'en lie a Bed:
For he'll get an Estate, there's no more to be said.
| The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts
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