The London-Spy Compleat In Eighteen Parts :: :: University of Virginia Library

Immortal Drink whose Compound is of Five,
More Praise do'st thou deserve than Man can give;
A Cordial that supports the troubled Heart,
And do'st infuse new Life in ev'ry part:
Thou clear'st our Reason, and inform'st our Soul,
And mak'st us Demy Gods when o'er a Bowl,
Inspir'd by thee we're rais'd to such a Pitch,
That things beyond Mortality we reach,
Such as without thy Pow'r no Stagaryte e'er cou'd Teach.
Had our Foresfathers but thy Vertues known,
Their Foggy Ale to Lubber they'd have thrown;
And stuck to thee who gives the Soul a sight
Of things, that Study ne'er cou'd bring to Light.
Which if they had, I may with Reason say,
Our Great Great Grandsires might have seen this Day;
Had they th'Effects of of this Di'pente seen,
Five would have sure the Golden Number been.
Let Musick Judge thy Harmony alone,
A Fifth's a Concord but a Seventh's none.
Therefore thou surely dost Excel in Heaven,
And Justly take'st the Upper-hand of Seven,
Thou Friendship Knit'st, and does the same preserve;
They who Neglect thee do not Live but Starve:
Slight those great Benefits they might possess,
Which Wine can't Equalize, or Words Express.
Thou clear'st all Doubts, and driv'st away all Care,
And make'st Mankind show truly what we are;

338

When to thy Power we chearfully submit,
And round the Bowl, thy flowing Confines, sit,
We Paradise Regain, and Re-enjoy
That happy State which common Ills Destroy.
The Sober Muckworms who thy Name abuse,
And with Contempt thy Jolly Cups Refuse,
Are Plodding Knaves, who're fearful to betray
Some Base Designs they are about te Play;
And therefore without danger cannot Trust,
Evils with thee, that art Divinely Just.
Thou art the Key to Humane Heads and Hearts,
O'er thee the Modest, Witty, show their Parts.
Thou putt'st new Vigour into Life's old Springs,
The Poet Rhimes, and the Musician Sings;
The Artist does his Rules and Means disclose,
The Lawyer Feeless tells you what he knows.
The Parson quits Divinity and Drinks;
At all our Little Slips and Failings Winks,
Nor tells you what he has Read, but truly thinks.
The Virgin all her Coyness lays aside,
And hear's a Love-Petition without Pride,
Shewing those Faults before by Art she hid.
The Wife will by her true Behaviour show,
Whether sh'as Horn'd the Goodmans Head or no;
The Subtle Widow will her Love set forth,
And frankly tell you what she's freely worth.

In thee one Virtue more I must commend,
Of Liquors thou'rt the only Womans Friend:
'Twill make the Youth, his utmost Power exert,
And the old Fumbler play the Young Mans part.
To thee, my only Mistress, cou'd I raise,
An everlasting Monument of Praise.
For thus much may I justiy say in fine.
Thou hast an Excellence surpassing Wine,
And art the only Cordial that's Divine.

339

Therefore to know this mighty Truth I want,
If a Saint first made Punch, or Punch first made a Saint.