| |
| I TELL 1 thee, Dick, where I have been, | |
| Where I, the rarest things have seen; | |
| O, things without compare! | |
| Such sights again cannot be found | |
| In any place on English ground, | 5 |
| Be it at Wake or Fair. | |
| |
| At Charing Cross, hard by the way | |
| Where we (thou know’st!) do sell our hay, 2 | |
| There is a house with stairs; 3 | |
| And there, did I see coming down | 10 |
| Such folk as are not in our town, | |
| Forty at least, in pairs. | |
| |
| Amongst the rest, one pest’lent fine | |
| (His beard no bigger, though, than thine) | |
| Walked on before the rest. | 15 |
| Our landlord looks like nothing to him; | |
| The King (God bless him!), ’twould undo him, | |
| Should he go still so drest. | |
| |
| At Course-a-Park, without all doubt, | |
| He should have first been taken out | 20 |
| By all the Maids i’ th’ town; | |
| Though lusty Roger there had been | |
| Or little George upon the Green, | |
| Or Vincent of the Crown. | |
| |
| But wot you what? The Youth was going | 25 |
| To make an end of all his wooing. | |
| The Parson for him stayed; | |
| Yet, by his leave, for all his haste, | |
| He did not so much wish all past, | |
| Perchance, as did the Maid. | 30 |
| |
| The Maid (and thereby hangs a tale!): 4 | |
| For such a Maid no Whitsun-Ale | |
| Could ever yet produce; | |
| No grape that ’s kindly ripe could be | |
| So round, so plump, so soft, as She; | 35 |
| Nor half so full of juice! | |
| |
| Her Finger was so small, the ring | |
| Would not stay on; which they did bring. | |
| It was too wide a peck; | |
| And to say truth, (for out it must) | 40 |
| It looked like the great collar (just) | |
| About our young colt’s neck. | |
| |
| Her Feet, beneath her petticoat, | |
| Like little mice stole in and out, | |
| As if they feared the light: | 45 |
| But O, She dances such a way! | |
| No sun, upon an Easter Day, | |
| Is half so fine a sight. | |
| |
| Her Cheeks so rare a white was on; | |
| No daisy makes comparison; | 50 |
| Who sees them is undone; | |
| For streaks of red were mingled there, | |
| Such as are on a Katherine pear | |
| (The side that’s next the sun). | |
| |
| Her lips were red, and one was thin | 55 |
| Compared to that was next her chin, | |
| Some bee had stung it newly: | |
| But, Dick! her Eyes so guard her face; | |
| I durst no more upon them gaze, | |
| Than on the sun in July. | 60 |
| |
| Her Mouth so small, when she does speak, | |
| Thou’dst swear her teeth, her words did break, | |
| That they might passage get: | |
| But She so handled still the matter, | |
| They came as good as ours, or better; | 65 |
| And are not spent a whit!… | |
| |
| Just in the nick, the Cook knocked thrice, | |
| And all the Waiters, in a trice, | |
| His summons did obey; | |
| Each Serving Man, with dish in hand, | 70 |
| Marched boldly up, like our Trained Band, | |
| Presented, and away! | |
| |
| When all the meat was on the table; | |
| What man of knife, or teeth, was able | |
| To stay to be intreated! | 75 |
| And this the very reason was, | |
| Before the Parson could say Grace, | |
| The company was seated! | |
| |
| The business of the kitchen ’s great, | |
| For it is fit that men should eat; | 80 |
| Nor was it there denied. | |
| (Passion o’ me! how I run on! | |
| There’s that, that would be thought upon, | |
| I trow, besides the Bride!) | |
| |
| Now, hats fly off; and Youths carouse! | 85 |
| Healths first go round; and then the house! | |
| The Bride’s came thick and thick; | |
| And when ’twas named another’s Health; | |
| Perhaps, he made it hers by stealth; | |
| (And who could help it, Dick?) | 90 |
| |
| O’ th’ sudden, up they rise and dance; | |
| Then sit again, and sigh, and glance; | |
| Then dance again and kiss! | |
| Thus, several ways, the time did pass; | |
| Whilst every woman wished her place, | 95 |
| And every man wished his!… | |
