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The MISTAKE.
Upon drinking a Glass of Beer to C. J. B. for one of Sack. raptim.
1665.
Pardon, great Bacchus, I repent!
The Error has its punishment:
Poor Travellers are cheated so,
That come where Sodom Apples grow.
This change of mine has his disgrace,
Who did, for Juno, Clouds imbrace.
Nor is the distance lesser here;
Immortal Sack, and Mortal Beer!
So did the crazed Hebrew fail,
Deserting God, to go to Baal.
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More charming than the thick-skin'd Dutch.
One thus a Beauty thought to wed,
But got a Gypsie to his Bed:
Beer has that tann'd and yellow hew,
Like hers that did the Liquor brew.
When Sack's Complexion is refin'd;
As though it were with Sun-beams lin'd.
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