Here I sit naked, like some Fairy Elf,

My Seat a Pumpkin; I grudge no Man’s Pelf;

Though I’ve no Bread, nor Cheese upon my Shelf;

 I’ll tell thee gratis, when it safe is,

To purge, to bleed, or cut, thy Cattle, or—thy self.

Good Women are like stars in darkest Night,

Their Virtuous Actions shining as a Light

To guide their ignorant Sex, which oft times fall,

And falling oft, turns diabolical.

Good Women sure are Angels on the Earth,

Of those good Angels we have had a Dearth;

And therefore all you Men that have good Wives,

Respect their Virtues equal with your Lives.

From a cross Neighbour, and a sullen Wife,

A pointless Needle, and a broken Knife;

From Suretyship, and from an empty Purse,

A Smoaky Chimney and a jolting Horse;

From a dull Razor, and an aking Head,

From a bad Conscience and a buggy Bed;

A Blow upon the Elbow and the Knee,

From each of these, Good L--d deliver me.

Would you live with ease,

Do what you ought, and not what you please.

You cannot pluck roses without fear of thorns,

Nor enjoy a fair wife without danger of horns.

Many dishes many diseases,

Many medicines few cures.

Where carcasses are, eagles will gather,

And where good laws are, much people flock thither.

What Death is, dost thou ask of me;

 Till dead I do not know;

Come to me when thou hear’st I’m dead;

 Then what ’tis I shall show.

To die’s to cease to be, it seems,

 So Learned Seneca did think;

But we’ve Philosophers of modern Date,

 Who say ’tis Death to cease to Drink.

[In inner margin, vertically:] Excuse me

Hot things, sharp things, sweet things, cold things

All rot the teeth, and make them look like old things.

Blame-all and Praise-all are two blockheads.

Be temperate in wine, in eating, girls, and sloth;

Or the Gout will seize you and plague you both.

Some of our Sparks to London town do go

Fashions to see, and learn the World to know;

Who at Return have nought but these to show,

New Wig above, and new Disease below.

Thus the Jack Ass a Traveller once would be,

And roam’d abroad new Fashions for to see;

But home returned, Fashions he had none,

Only his Main and Tail were larger grown.

What pains our Justice takes his faults to hide,

With half that pains sure he might cure ’em quite.

Take this remark from Richard poor and lame,

Whate’er’s begun in anger ends in shame.

When Fortune fell asleep, and Hate did blind her,

Art, Fortune lost; and Ignorance did find her.

Since when, dull Ignorance with Fortune’s Store

Hath been inrich’d, and Art hath still been poor.

Poets say Fortune’s blind, and cannot see,

But certainly they must deceived be;

Else could it not most commonly fall out

That Fools should have and wise Men go without.

Hope of gain

Lessens pain.

All things are easy to Industry,

All things difficult to Sloth.

If you ride a Horse, sit close and tight,

If you ride a Man, sit easy and light.

A new truth is a truth, an old error is an error,

Tho’ Clodpate wont allow either.

Wedlock, as old Men note, hath likened been,

Unto a publick Crowd or common Rout;

Where those that are without would fain get in,

And those that are within would fain get out.

Grief often treads upon the Heels of Pleasure,

Marry’d in Haste, we oft repent at Leisure;

Some by Experience find these Words misplac’d,

Marry’d at Leisure, they repent in Haste.

Astrologers say,

This is a good Day,

To make Love in May.

Who pleasure gives,

Shall joy receive.

When Robin now three Days had married been,

This Question of his Wife he asked then,

Indeed (said he) ’twas well thou didst not yield,

O Sir, I once before was so beguil’d,

And was resolv’d the next should not deceive me.

Some men grow mad by studying much to know,

But who grows mad by studying good to grow.

A Lawyer being sick and extream ill

Was moved by his Friends to make his Will,

Which soon he did, gave all the Wealth he had

To frantic Persons, lunatick and mad;

And to his Friends this Reason did reveal

(That they might see with Equity he’d deal).

From Madmen’s Hands I did my Wealth receive,

Therefore that Wealth to Madmen’s Hands I’ll leave.

Rain or Snow,

To Chili go,

You’ll find it so,

For ought we know.

Time will show.

Some envious (speaking in their own Renown)

Say that my Book was not exactly done:

They wrong me; Yet like Feasts I’d have my Books

Rather be pleasing to the Guests than Cooks.

 Ill thrives that hapless Family that shows

A Cock that’s silent, and a Hen that crows:

I know not which lives more unnatural Lives,

Obeying Husbands, or commanding Wives.

Grief for a dead Wife, and a troublesome Guest,

Continues to the threshold, and there is at rest;

But I mean such wives as are none of the best.

S——l the Smith hath lately sworn and said,

That no Disease shall make him keep his Bed;

His reason is, I now begin to smell it,

He wants more Rum, and must be forc’d to sell it.

Nor less meant J——h when that Vow he made,

Than to give o’er his cousening Tapster’s Trade,

Who, check’d for short and frothy Measure, swore

He never would from thenceforth fill Pot more.

Laws like to Cobwebs catch small Flies,

Great ones break thro’ before your eyes.

Altho’ thy Teacher act not as he preaches,

Yet ne’ertheless, if good, do what he teaches;

Good Counsel, failing Men may give; for why,

He that’s aground knows where the Shoal doth lie.

My old Friend Berryman, oft, when alive,

Taught others Thrift; himself could never thrive:

Thus like the Whetstone, many Men are wont

To sharpen others while themselves are blunt.

Dorothy would with John be married;

But John by no means Dorothy will wed;

Those are my Verses which Tom reads;

But if in reading he makes ’em Nonsence,

The thrifty maxim of the wary Dutch,

Is to save all the Money they can touch.

He that for sake of Drink neglects his Trade,

And spends each Night in Taverns till ’tis late,

And rises when the Sun is four hours high,

And ne’er regards his starving Family;

God in his Mercy may do much to save him,

But, woe to the poor Wife, whose Lot it is to have him.

If you wou’d have Guests merry with your cheer,

Be so your self, or so at least appear.

Famine, Plague, War, and an unnumber’d throng

Of Guilt-avenging Ills, to Man belong;

Is’t not enough Plagues, Wars, and Famines rise

To lash our crimes, but must our Wives be wise?

Reader, farewel, all Happiness attend thee:

May each New-Year better and richer find thee.

To such a height th’Expence of Courts is gone,

That poor Men are redress’d—till they’re undone.

Of Disposition they’re most sweet,

Their Clients always kindly greet;

And tho’ at Bar they rip old Sores,

And brawl and scold like drunken Wh——s,

Their Angers in a moment pass

Away at Night over a Glass;

Nay often laugh at the Occasion

Of their premeditated Passion.

 O may you prosper as you treat us,

 Until the D--l sign your Quietus.