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All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet

Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted

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Goose Faire at Stratford Bow, the Thursday after Whitsontide.
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Goose Faire at Stratford Bow, the Thursday after Whitsontide.

At Bowe the Thursday after Pentecost,
There is a Faire of Greene Geese, ready rost,
Where as a Goose is very dogcheape there,
The Sawce is onely somewhat sharpe and deare,
There (e'r they scarce haue feathers on their backe)
By hundreds and by heapes they goe to wracke,
There is such Baking, rosting, broyling, boyling,
Such swearing, drabbing, dancing, dicing, toyling,
Such shifting, sharking, cheating, smoaking, stinking,
Such Gormondizing, cramming, guzling, drinking:
As if the world did runne on wheeles away,
Or all the Deuils in hell kept Holiday.
And as Hearbs, Flowres and Weeds together grow,
So people are that day at Stratford Bow,
There sits a Cheater with a simple Gull,
And there an honest woman, there a Trull,
Yonder a Fidler dawb'd with greace and Ale,
And there an Asse telling an idle tale.
There's one a Rosting, yonders one a Stewing,
And yon's one drinkes vntill he fall a spewing:
There's a kinde Cuckold with his Wife doth wander,
To exercise the office of a Pander,
His Pimpship with his Punke despight the horne,
Eate Gosling giblets in a fort of Corne.
There is ran tan Tom Tinker and his Tib,
And there's a Iugler with his fingers glib.
There throngs a Cutpurse, with his working toole,
And there's a gallant Coxcombe, there's a Foole.
There's foure or fiue together by the eares,
And tumble in the Dirt like Dogs and Beares.
One staggering there hath got the drunken yox,
And there one swaggering's fast within the Stocks.
Thus with these Galleymaufry humours still,
These Linsey-wolsey postures Good and Ill,
These mingle mangle, motly toyes they spend
The time, till night doth make them homeward wend.
Then they returne as wise as Geese away,
For whom so many Geese were slaine that day.
They brought both wit & money with thē thither,
But with the Geese 'tis all deuour'd together.
And if they were but taught as well as fed,
More Coyne were sau'd, and many a wiser head.
Thus (as my Muse is able) I haue told
How that a Gooses vse is manifold.
How many seuerall sortes of Geese there are,
Some wilde, some tame, some too neer some too far.
How from her flesh and entrailes, it is plaine,
Good food and Physicke daily we obtaine:
How freely she doth play the true Vpholster,
And fill with Feathers, pillowes, bed and bolster.
And how in many an honorable War,
The gray Goose wing hath bin the vanquisher.
The necessarie vses of her Quill,
How to the good 'tis good, Ill to the ill.
And Shooting here (according to my loue)
To bee a noble Exercise I proue.
And how the Goose Romes Capitoll did saue,
(As sayes the Story) I described haue.
And now let men examine well and try,
If any Bird in water, earth, or sky,
Or all in generall together are,
With the good Goose (for worth) to make Cōpare.
Many absurdly, idle, foolish, base,
Will call a man a Goose in foule disgrace:
When if men rightly vnderstood the same,
A man is honour'd with a Gooses name.
For though the Eagle be of Birds the King,
Yet 'tis a rauenous, greedy hurtfull thing.
And he that with that tytle me should call,
I had as leiue he call'd me Theefe withall.
Shee while she liues doth yeeld reliefe to many,
And aliue or dead, beholding not to any.

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She hath maintain'd ten thousand men,
With food, & Physicke, Lodging, Shafts and Pen,
And lastly (not to charge them any wayes)
Her owne Quill here, writes her own worthy praise.
Because a Goose is common, and not deere,
She amongst fooles is small esteemed heere.
So Blackberryes, that grow on euery bryer,
Because th'are plenty, few men doe desire:
Spanish Potatoes are accounted dainty,
And English Persneps are course meate, though plenty.
But if these Berryes or those Rootes were scant,
They would be thought as rare, through little want,
That we should eate them, and a price allow,
As much as Strawberryes, and Potatoes now.
Why Bread is common, hauing still our fill
We thinke not on, because we haue it still:
But if we want Bread, then we doe remember,
We want the groundworke of our belly timber.
The Light is common, which few thinke vpon,
Till Night doth put her blindfold mufler on,
And all attyr'd in mourning blacke as pitch,
Then men misse light, and tumble in the Ditch.
So should we want a Gooses Flesh and Feather,
The quantity of but fiue yeeres together:
We then should all confesse with one consent,
How that a Goose were superexcellent.
Many good blessings we too much forget,
'Cause they are neere and cheape, not farre to fet.
Me thinkes I heare some Cuckow, or some Iay,
Some Daw, some Pye, some Gull, or Buzzard say,
That I haue giuen the Goose her worthy stile,
But haue forgot the Gander all this while.
Ile giue them Answer (though they merit none)
I doe include both sexes vnder one,
Tis knowne to euery perfit vnderstander,
A Goose is much superiour to a Gander.
For though a man, a Mare or Gelding stride,
We briefly say, he doth on Horsebacke ride:
And though a Gelding be the beast that bare,
We call't a Horse, that's neither Horse or Mare.
So Ganders vnder name of Geese doe goe,
The Gooses worthinesse deserues it so.
Once I remember, Riding on my way
In Barkshire, neere vnto a Towne call'd Bray,
I on my Iourney as I past along,
Rode by a Goose, a Gander and their young:
(I neither minding them nor yet their Crue)
The Gander in my face with fury flew,
Who in his fierce encounter was more hot,
Then if he had bin Spanish Don Quixot.
But sure himselfe so brauely he did beare,
Because his Loue and Lady Goose was there:
And 'twas a spurre his Chiualry vnto,
To haue his sweet heart see what he did doe.
My Horse he started, to the ground I went,
Dismounted in that (Ganderous) tournament.
I should say Dangerous, but sure I am
That Ganderovs is a Dangerovs Anagram.
The Gander was mine enemy, what tho,
Ile honour worthy Valour in my foe.
He Tilted brauely, and in liew of it,
The Gooses Quill, the Ganders praise hath writ;
Thus for the Goose I hauing done my best,
My toyled Muse retires vnto her rest:
Ile shut my Inckhorne, and put vp my Pen,
So take my Goose amongst you, Gentlemen.
 

The Description of Greene-goose Faire.

Foode, Physicke, Lodging, Arts, Armes, and good Society, all from a Goose.