University of Virginia Library

TAYLORS Westerne Voyage to the Mount.

Tis a mad world (my masters) and in sadnes
I 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;
But in light buskins I perform'd this travell
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.