University of Virginia Library

A Poetical Parley, with a thredbare Cloak; Dedicated to his worthy friend, M. Hen. Stonestreet.

Cloak! (If I may so call thee) though thou art
My old Acquaintance, prythee now let's part;
Thou wert my equal friend in thirty-one,
But now thou lookst like a meer Hanger-on:
And art so useless to me, I scarce know
Sometimes, whether I have thee on or no;
But this I needs must say, when thou goest fro me,
These ten years thou hast been no burthen to me:
Yet that's thy Accusation, for if I
Divorce thee from me, 'tis for Levity;
Thou hast abus'd my bed, that is, thou hast
Not kept me warm when thou wert overcast:
Transparent Garment, proof against no weather,
Men wonder by what art thou hang'st together;
Nor can the eyes of the best reason pry
Into thy new occult Geometry.
A fellow tother day but cast his Eye-on,
And swore I went mantled in Dandelion:
Another ask'd me, (who was somewhat bolder,)
If I did wear a Love-bag on my shoulder;
{I} fear a fire, as fair Maids the small pox,
And dare not look towards a Tinder-box;
Nor he that sells them up and down I know,
If he come neer it, 'tis but touch and go:
A red fac'd fellow frights me, though some fear,
That which makes his Nose red, made my Cloak bare;
They say my thick back and thin Cloak appear
Very like powder'd beef and vineger.
Another vow'd (whose tongue had no restriction)
It was no garment, but the Poets fiction.
Did ever man discover such a knack,
To walk in Querpo with a Cloak on's back?
A very zealous Brother did begin
To jeer, and say, Sir! your original sin
Is not wash'd out, (pray do not take it ill)
I see you wear your Fathers figleaf still.
A Schollar (in an elevated thought)
Protested 'twas the web Arachne wrought,
When she contended with Minerva, but
Another Rascal had his finger cut,
And beg'd a piece to wrap about it; thus
You see (kind Cobweb) how they laugh at us:
Good Cambrick Lawn depart, let me not be
For ever, thus fetter'd in Tiffany:
Although I never yet did merit praise,
I'de rather have my shoulders crown'd with Bayes,
Then hung with Cypress, if this fortune be
Alwayes dependent upon Poetry,
I would my kinder destiny would call
Me to be one oth' Clerks of Blackwel Hall;
For though their easie studies are more dull,
Yet what they want in wit, they have in wooll.
Once more farewel, these are no times for thee,
Thick Cloaks are only fit for knavery:
The only Cloaks that now are most in fashion,
Are Liberty, Religion, Reformation;
All these are fac'd with zeal, and button'd down
With Jewels drop'd from an Imperial Crown:
He that would cloak it in the new translation,
Must have his Taylor cut it Pulpit fashion.
Do not appear within the City, there
They mind not what men are, but what men weare:
The habit speaks the man, how canst thou thrive,
Where a good Cloak's a Representative?
The females will not wear thee, they put on
Such cloaks as do obscure the rising Sun.
How canst thou hope for entertainment, when
Women make cloaks even of Committee men?
Farewel poor Coverwit, upon this Brier
I'le hang thee up, if any do enquire,
Where his brains were, that let his cloak there swing,
Tell them his wits are gone a wooll-gathring.