Poems or, A Miscellany of Sonnets, Satyrs, Drollery, Panegyricks, Elegies, &c. At the Instance, and Request of Several Friends, Times, and Occasions, Composed; and now at their command Collected, and Committed to the Press. By the Author, M. Stevenson |
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Upon a Camp should have been plaid, neer the black house by Kirby for a Crown a piece, and was not.
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Upon a Camp should have been plaid, neer the black house by Kirby for a Crown a piece, and was not.
This morning when we came to see the Camp,
Some had the Crotchets got, & some the cramp.
Where are the pledges of this hot contest?
I doubt in earnest you were but in jest.
Ye talk of Crowns, to heighten your renowns,
And meet like Princes, that contend for Crowns.
But you did talk, and I as much dare swear,
Of Crowns, when you in the Crown Office were.
Ale makes a bargain, and claps hasty hand to't,
And when they cannot stand, they swear to stand to't.
'Tis well designs are over-night forborn,
The Evening is too valiant for the Morn;
Bodies are then too narrow for their souls:
Foxes are best at burroughs, not at Goals.
Some had the Crotchets got, & some the cramp.
Where are the pledges of this hot contest?
I doubt in earnest you were but in jest.
Ye talk of Crowns, to heighten your renowns,
And meet like Princes, that contend for Crowns.
But you did talk, and I as much dare swear,
Of Crowns, when you in the Crown Office were.
Ale makes a bargain, and claps hasty hand to't,
And when they cannot stand, they swear to stand to't.
'Tis well designs are over-night forborn,
The Evening is too valiant for the Morn;
Bodies are then too narrow for their souls:
Foxes are best at burroughs, not at Goals.
Yet sav'd your credit I presume, and cost,
Where there is nothing laid, there's nothing lost.
Lancashire Law, no lawful bargain makes,
Ye rob'd the hedges, if ye left your stakes:
Or, if indeed you left your stakes in pawn;
Go get your Spades, & ditch, where they are drawn
'Tis reason you your Horses necks should force
Into the Collar, since you draw out yours.
Where there is nothing laid, there's nothing lost.
Lancashire Law, no lawful bargain makes,
Ye rob'd the hedges, if ye left your stakes:
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Go get your Spades, & ditch, where they are drawn
'Tis reason you your Horses necks should force
Into the Collar, since you draw out yours.
Well, thou that brok'st the match, thou best deservest
For legs and arms are in request in harvest;
Had you been maim'd? ye might have curst your tiple
A Harvest Lady does abhor a Cripple.
But yet that none did Coat or Doublet doff,
At the black house ye came but blewly off.
Ropes that wou'd meet the ground can't draw you to't
And yet a hair of the same dog would do't.
They rendezvous, and run away like men,
Wou'd Mr. Haiset were alive agen.
For legs and arms are in request in harvest;
Had you been maim'd? ye might have curst your tiple
A Harvest Lady does abhor a Cripple.
But yet that none did Coat or Doublet doff,
At the black house ye came but blewly off.
Ropes that wou'd meet the ground can't draw you to't
And yet a hair of the same dog would do't.
They rendezvous, and run away like men,
Wou'd Mr. Haiset were alive agen.
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