 | Works of John Taylor the Water Poet not included in the folio volume of 1630 |  |
1649. Wanderings to see the Wonders of the West.
2
The Bil of John Taylor, or a Taylors Bill, without either Imprimis, or Items.
Old, lame and poor, by mad contentions beggerd,
And round about vvith miseries beleaguerd:
Too many Masters made me Masterlesse,
Too many vvrongs have made me monylesse,
Helples, and hopeles, and remedilesse,
And every vvay encompast vvith distresse.
To ease my griefes I have one trick of vvit,
(If you that read vvill set your hands to it:)
VVhich is, vvhen I do give you good account
From London unto Cornevvals Michaels Mount,
Of all my iourney, and vvhat Nevvs I found
In ayre, or sea, above, or under ground;
VVhen I do give you truths of this in Print,
Hovv I did travell, gravell, dust, durt, flint,
My entertainment, vvhere tvvas good, vvhere ill,
Then (in good mony) give me vvhat you vvill,
Your, nams & dvvellings, vvrite that I may find you,
And I shal (vvith my book) seek, find, and minde you,
And round about vvith miseries beleaguerd:
Too many Masters made me Masterlesse,
Too many vvrongs have made me monylesse,
Helples, and hopeles, and remedilesse,
And every vvay encompast vvith distresse.
To ease my griefes I have one trick of vvit,
(If you that read vvill set your hands to it:)
VVhich is, vvhen I do give you good account
From London unto Cornevvals Michaels Mount,
Of all my iourney, and vvhat Nevvs I found
In ayre, or sea, above, or under ground;
VVhen I do give you truths of this in Print,
Hovv I did travell, gravell, dust, durt, flint,
My entertainment, vvhere tvvas good, vvhere ill,
Then (in good mony) give me vvhat you vvill,
Your, nams & dvvellings, vvrite that I may find you,
And I shal (vvith my book) seek, find, and minde you,
vvith humble thankes.
Seven times at Sea I servd Eliza Queen,
Since vvhen, I thrice in Germany have been,
Once in Bohemia tvvixt Earth, Sea, and Sky,
And once to Scotland, and the Mountains high:
Then unto Quinbrough, in a Paper Boat,
Then next (from London) I to Yorke did float
VVith a small paire of Oares (or little VVherry)
And in like fort from London to Salsberry.
Next that my man and I did ride our Steedes
To Leicefter, Lin, Hull, Hallifax and Leedes,
Ore lofty mountains, vvher the vvinds blevv bleak,
To Chester, Darby, and Devils arse a peak.
Then vvith a Scullers boat to Cicester,
From thence (up Seaverns flood) to Glocester,
To VVorster, and the Tovvn of Shrevvsbery,
From thence to Bristoll, and to Bath I fly;
These are no fictions, or false Idle Tales,
I passe from Bathe to the River VVye in VVales?
Then Hereford did me vvell entertain,
From vvhence I home came in my Boat again.
Last (to the King) at the Isle of VVight I vvent,
Since vvhen my best content, is discontent:
Thus having traveld North, and South, and East,
I meane to end my travels vvith the VVest.
Since vvhen, I thrice in Germany have been,
Once in Bohemia tvvixt Earth, Sea, and Sky,
And once to Scotland, and the Mountains high:
Then unto Quinbrough, in a Paper Boat,
Then next (from London) I to Yorke did float
VVith a small paire of Oares (or little VVherry)
And in like fort from London to Salsberry.
Next that my man and I did ride our Steedes
To Leicefter, Lin, Hull, Hallifax and Leedes,
Ore lofty mountains, vvher the vvinds blevv bleak,
To Chester, Darby, and Devils arse a peak.
Then vvith a Scullers boat to Cicester,
From thence (up Seaverns flood) to Glocester,
To VVorster, and the Tovvn of Shrevvsbery,
From thence to Bristoll, and to Bath I fly;
These are no fictions, or false Idle Tales,
I passe from Bathe to the River VVye in VVales?
Then Hereford did me vvell entertain,
From vvhence I home came in my Boat again.
Last (to the King) at the Isle of VVight I vvent,
Since vvhen my best content, is discontent:
Thus having traveld North, and South, and East,
I meane to end my travels vvith the VVest.
3
TAYLORS Westerne Voyage to the Mount.
Tis a mad world (my masters) and in sadnesI travail'd madly in these dayes of madnes:
Eight yeares a frenzy did this Land molest,
The ninth year seem'd to be much like the rest,
My selfe (with age, griefe, wrongs, and wants opprest,
With troubles more then patience could disgest)
Amongst those Isles, I chose the least and best,
Which was to take this journey to the West:
And sure it is an Argument most fit,
That he who hath a portion of small wit
As I have, and good store of friends, 'twere sloth
And foolery, not to make use of both.
My wit was worne thread bare, halfe naked, poore,
And I, with it, went wool-gath'ring for more.
This long walke (first and last) I undertooke
On purpose to get money by my Booke:
My friends (I know) will pay me for my paine,
And I will never trouble them againe.
Six hundred miles, I (very neere) have footed,
And all that time was neither sho'd or booted;
4
O're hill and dale, through dust, dirt, flint, and gravell.
And now no more words I in vaine will scatter,
But come unto the marrow of the matter.
My Reader must not her suppose that I
Will write a treatise of Geography:
Or that I meane to make exact Relations
Of Cities, Townes, or Countries scituations;
Such men as those, I turne them o're to reade
The learned Cambden, or the painefull Speed.
And now (good Reader) I my muse do tune,
I London left, the twenty one of June:
To Brainford, Colebrooke, Maidenhead and Henly,
I past (the weather faire, the high wayes cleanely)
To Abington, where foure dayes I remain'd,
By friends and kinsfolkes kindely entertain'd:
Thankes to my Nephew John, with all the rest,
To whom that time I was a costly Guest.
11
[From nasty Roomes, that never felt broomes]
From nasty Roomes, that never felt broomes,From excrements, and all bad sents,
From childrens bawling, and caterwawling,
From grunting of hogs, and barking of dogs,
And from byting of Fleas, there I found ease.
23
[Like to the stone of Sisiphus, I roule]
Like to the stone of Sisiphus, I rouleFrom place to place, through weather faire and foule,
And yet I every day must wander still
To vent my Bookes, and gather friends good will;
I must confesse this worke is frivalowse,
And he that (for it) daignes to give a lowse,
Doth give as much for't as 'tis worth, I know;
Yet meerly merily I this jaunt did goe
In imitation of a mighty King,
Whose warlike acts, good fellowes often sing,
The King of France and twenty thousand men,
Went up the Hill, and so came downe agen.
So I this travell past, with cost and paine,
And (as I wisely went) came home againe.
FINIS.
| Works of John Taylor the Water Poet not included in the folio volume of 1630 | |