Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets With variety of other drolling Verses upon several Subjects. Composed by no body must know whom, and are to be had every body knows where, and for somebody knows what [by John Eliot] |
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To the Citie Sarjeants.
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 | Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets |  |
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To the Citie Sarjeants.
Stand by you cursed Rascals, whilst I striveYour Hellish Pedegree thus to derive,
And tell the world, not of your develish trade,
But of what Loathsome Mettal you were made.
Nature being sick, and in an Ague quaking,
Distempered in her Brains, each Member shaking,
She in a fury rose, and madly said,
Devils like men as yet she had not made;
But now she was resolv'd of Mettal base
To make so wicked, and so dam'd a Race,
As should degenerate from humane kinde,
They should be men in shape, devils in minde.
With that unto her Tub of Shreds she goes,
And first, the loathsome clouts of Bauds she throwes
Into a cankerd furnace, which had been
Ne'er lookt on, since Judas was put therein.
A Rag she findes all leaprous, the which
She long since pull'd from a foul stinking Breech,
And that into her Cauldron she doth croud,
A nasty Masty Bitch, new lin'd, still proud,
She made a spirit fetch and slay; that done,
The matrice of that ugly Bitch was thrown
Amongst the rest, to these she adds withall
A cruel Tygers Heart, a mad Dogs gall,
A Wolfe's ranck Gut, the Pizel af a Bull,
With these her fiery cauldron filling full.
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With water, fetcht from the black River Styx.
This done a name she to this Monster gave,
Which was Varlet, that's to say base knave.
Walk on base knave, and know he's much to blame
That ever calls you by a better Name.
| Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets | |