Then Dick to his Dearling full boldly dares speak, Tho' before (filly Fellow) his Courage did quail, He gives her the Smouch with his Hand on his Pouch, If he meet by the way with a Pot of good Ale.

And it makes the Carter a Courtier ftrait way,

With Rhetorical terms he will tell his Tale, With Courtefies great store, and his Cap up before, Being school'd but a little with a Pot of good Ale.

The old Man whofe Tongue wags fafter than his Teeth, (For old Age by nature doth drivel and drale) Will frisk and will fling like a Dog in a String,

If he warms his cold Blood with a Pot of good Ale.

And the good old Clark whofe fight waxeth dark,
And ever he thinks the Print is too small,
He will fee every Letter, and fay Service better,
If he glaze but his Eyes with a Pot of good Ale.

And now that the Grains do work in my Brains,
Methinks I were able to give by retail
Commodities ftore, a dozen and more

That flow to Mankind from a Pot of good Ale.

As for the Musician of any Condition,

It will make him reach to the top of his Scale;
It will clear his Pipes, and moisten his Lights,
If he drink alternatim a Pot of good Ale.

The Poet Divine, that cannot reach Wine,
Because that his Money doth many times fail,
Will hit on the Vein to make a good strain,

If he be but infpired with a Pot of good Ale.

For Ballads Elderton never had Peer,

How went his Wit in them, with how merry a gale, And with all the Sails up, had he been at the Cup, And washed his Beard with a Pot of good Ale.

And the power of it shows no whit less in Profe,
It will file one's Phrase, and set forth his Tale :
Fill him but a Bowl, it will make his Tongue troul,
For flowing Speech flows from a Pot of good Ale.
And Master Philofopher, if he drink his part,

Will not trifle his time in the Husk or the Shale, But go to the Kernel by the depth of his Art,

To be found in the bottom of a Pot of good Ale. Give a Scholar of Oxford a Pot of Sixteen,

And put him to prove that an Ape has no Tail, And fixteen times better his Wit will be seen,

If you fetch him from Botley a Pot of good Ale.

Thus it helps Speech and Wit; and it hurts not a whit,
But rather doth further the virtues Morale,

Then think it not much if a little I touch
The good Moral parts of a Pot of good Ale.

To the Church and Religion it is a good Friend,
Or else our Forefathers their Wisdom did fail,
That at every Mile, next to the Church Stile,

Set a Confecrate House to a Pot of good Ale.
The Churches much owe, as we all do know;
For when they be dropping and ready to fall,
By a Whitfon or Church-Ale up again they fhall go,
And owe their Repairing to a Pot of good Ale.
Truth will do it right, it brings truth to light,
And many bad matters it helps to reveal;
For they that will drink, will speak what they think;
Tom-tell-Troth lies hid in a Pot of good Ale.

And next I alledge, it is Fortitude's edge:
For a very Coward, that shrinks like a Snail,

Will Swear and will Swagger, and out goes his Dag-
If he be but arm'd with a Pot of good Ale.

(ger, And

And fure it will make a Man fuddenly Wife,
E'er while was scarce able to tell a right Tale;
It will open his Jaw, he will tell you the Law,
As made right a Bencher of a Pot of good Ale.

Or he that will make a bargain to gain,

In buying or fetting his Goods forth to Sale,
Muft not plod in the Mire, but fit by the Fire,
And Seal up his Match with a Pot of good Ale.

They talk much of State both early and late,

But if Gafcoign and Spain their Wine fhou'd but fail, No remedy then with us Englishmen

But the State it must stand by a Pot of good Ale.

And they that fit by it are good Men and quiet,
No dangerous Plotters in the Common-weal
Of Treafon or Murther; for they go no further
Than to call for, and pay for a Pot of good Ale.

The North they will praise it, and praise it with Passion,
Where every River gives Name to a Dale:
There Men are yet living that are of the old fashion,
No Nectar they know but a Pot of good Ale.

O Ale ab alendo, thou Liquor of Life!

That I had but a Mouth as big as a Whale!
For mine is too little to touch the leaft tittle
That belongs to the praise of a Pot of good Ale.

Thus I trow, fome virtues I've marked you out,
And never a Pice in all this long trail,
But that after the Pot there cometh a fhot

And that's th' only blot of a Pot of good Ale.

With that my Friend said, That blot will I bear,
You have done very well, it is time to strike fail,
We'll have fix Pots more tho' I die on the score,
To make all this good of a Pot of good Ale.

The

Greenland VOYAGE: or, the Whale-Fisher's Delight: Being a full Description of the manner of the taking of Whales on the Coast of Greenland.

To the Tune of, Hey to the Temple, &c.

At a Time when the World is wholly taken up with difcourfes upon Whale-Fishery, and that we are all expecting what Success one of the greatest Companies in Europe will meet with in this part of their Commerce, I think I can do nothing better than to prefent my Readers with an old Song written on this Subject; the Poetry I am fure is good, and thofe who are skill'd in that Art tell me the Terms are juft, and every part of it equally beautiful.

HY ftay we at home, now the Season is come?
Jolly Lads let us liquor our Throats;

WHY

Our Interest we wrong, if we tarry too long,

Then all hands, let us fit out our Boats;
Let each Man prepare

Of the Tackling his share,

By neglect a good Voy'ge may be loft.

Come I fay, let's away,

Make no ftay nor delay,

For the Winter brings Whales on the Coast.

Harry,

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