The School of Politicks or, the humours of a coffee-house: a poem. The Second Edition Corrected and much Enlarged by the Author [i.e. Edward Ward] |
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 | The School of Politicks |  |
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II.
[What e'er th'occasion was I cannot tell]
What e'er th'occasion was I cannot tell,Whether the Wine had discompos'd my Mind,
Or some false Medium did my Reason blind,
But so it was, I took the Place for Hell;
The Master of the House with fiery Face,
Did like insulting Pluto seem,
Whilst all his Guests he did condemn
To drink a Liquor of infernal Race,
Black, scalding, and of most offensive smell:
Trembling and pale, I cross'd my self all o'er,
And mumbled Ave-Maries by the score.
At length, by strange insensible degrees,
My fears all vanish'd, and my Mind found ease,
My scatter'd Reason re-assum'd its place,
And I perceiv'd with whom, and where I was.
| The School of Politicks | |