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Page 71:-
Where a pious Prince frequented,
Which observing, this I vented:
"Since all Flesh to * Fate's a Debtor,
"Restless Wretch, why liv'st no better?
Thence to Caxton, I was led in
To a poor House, poorer bedding:
Some there were had me suspected,
That with Plague I was infected;
So as I stark-naked drew me,
Calling the Hostess strait to view me,
Thence to Cambridge, where the Muses
Haunt the Vine-bush, as their Use is,
Like sparks up a Chimney warming,
Or Flies near a Dunghill swarming:
In a Ring they did inclose me,
Vowing they would never lose me.
'Bout Midnight for a Drink I call, Sir,
As I had drank naught at all, Sir:
But all this did little shame me,
Tipsy went I, tipsy came I:
Grounds, Greens, Groves, are wet and homely,
But the Scholars wond'rous comely.
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*
Fields, Floods, Wastes, Woods, Deer, Dogs, with well-tuned
Cry,
Are Sports for Kings, yet Kings with these must die.
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