Large were her kerchiffs, yet more gorgeous made
With her own work, and full three pound they
Scarlet her hofe, her gloffy fhoes were new;
Bold was her face, and ruddy was its hue.
Not one of her five hufbands could be found,
She laid 'em fafely up in holy ground.
With these fhe made a shift to pass her youth;
Such was this good wife's conftancy and truth.
She travell'd far, pafs'd many a rapid ftream,
Thrice faw the reliques of Jerusalem.
Rome and the Catacombs he knew full well,
Strange things of Cologne and its Kings could tell;
Spain he had travell'd o'er from end to end,
And good St. James was very much her friend.
Of various haps and perils by the way,
Much had she known, and yet much more wou'd fay.
Upon an ambling pad at eafe fhe fat,
Gingling the bitt, and flack'd her pace to chat:
A fteeple-hat she wore upon her head,
Whofe ample brims were like a buckler spread;
O'er her large hips a mantle fairly wrought;
Before, her kerchiff to a point was brought:
Like a rank rider, pointed fpurs she wore:
Of jefts fhe had an unexhausted store.
Her talk did notably love's art advance,
For fhe had practis'd long that old, new dance.
The Ploughman.
Plowman follow'd, who had ftill at hand
Loads of manure t'inrich the grateful land;
An able, ftrong, laborious man was he,
Who liv'd with all in perfect charity.
He ferv'd God faithfully, nor hoarded pelf,
But lov'd his neighbour equal with himself.
Hard would he work, and freely would he give,
And oft' for God's fake did the poor relieve.
In dealing juft, with loffes not dismay'd:
In every kind his tythes he duly paid.
In a fhort coat he rode without a fleeve.
There was befide a Miller, and a Reeve,
A Sumner, and a Pardon-monger too,
A Steward, and my felf, were all the crew.
HE Miller, hardy as his own mill-ftones,
With brawny flesh, large finews and ftrong:
bones.
His ftrength to all the town was known too well;
In wrestling ftill he bore away the bell.
Short-fhoulder'd, knotty as a stubborn oak,
Hard to be bent, and harder to be broke.
Not one, fo far as he, could pitch a bar,
Or lift a weight, or fwing it in the air.
He'd running, force a door with his hard head;
His beard, like any fox's tail, was red,
But ftrait, and even as a gard'ner's fpade.
Juft at the end of his huge nofe he had
A large black wart, on that a tuft of hairs
Red, as the briftles of an old fow's ears:
His noftrils, like a furnace, black and wide;
A fword and buckler hanging on his fide..
A babler, with a gormandizing throat;
As lech'rous as a monkey or a goat.^
'Corn he could fteal, the fame corn thrice he toll'd';
And yet, they say, he had a thumb of gold:
His coat was white, on bag-pipes he could play,
And with that mufick brought us on our way.
Steward of the Temple next must come,
A pattern for all caterers in town: >
The price of every thing each market had,
He knew, and nicely pick'd the good from bad.
Sometimes he went on truft, and fometimes paid,
Yet none could over-reach him in his trade.
Some wonder much how an unletter'd man,
Of fuch low, fordid education, can.
(Who is but one to more than three times ten)
O'er-reach fo many grave, wife, learned men?
A practis'd lawyer all things understands,
Th' affairs of half the nation pass their hands.
We praise unjustly, partially condemn,
As they cheat others, others cozen them.
By various methods all profeffions live,
By their wife management he learn'd to thrive.
In life's long course such diff'rent ways we run,
Some to undo, but moft to be undone.
HE Reve, a little, flender, chol'rick thing;
His face fhav'd close, and not a hair on chin:
His locks above his ears, an inch at least,
And dock'd before, like any begging pricft:
His active legs were very long and lean,
Strait as a staff, no calf was to be seen.
No auditor e'er found him in the wrong:
A good accomptant, tho' his bills were long.
Well judg'd he by the drought, and by the rain,
The future product of his feed and grain.
He kept due tale of oxen, theep and fwine,
His Lord's March Beer, and his more precious wine;
All rents receiv'd, for all things did engage,
And manag'd fince his mafter came to age.
O'er ev'ry under-baily he had spies,
Knew all their cunning, all their knaveries.
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