Feminine Valor Eminently Discovered, Title page – Encomium 10
Joanereidos: OR, FEMININE VALOUR; Eminently discovered in WESTERN WOMEN, At the Siege of LYME. AS WELL By defying the merciless Enemy at the face abroad, as by fighting against them in Garrison Towns; sometimes carrying stones, anon tumbling of stones over the Works on the Enemy, when they have been scaling them, some carrying powder, other charging of Pieces to ease the Souldiers, constantly resolved for generality, not to think any ones life dear, to maintain that Christian quarrel for the long Parliament. Whereby, as they deserve commendations in themselves, so they are proposed as example unto others. With Marginal Notes on the Work, and several Copies of Verses by a Club of Gentlemen on this Authors year and half WORK.
Languet virtus sine adversario.
Horace, Scribimus indocti, docti que &c.
By IAMES STRONG Batchelor, &c.
Re-printed Anno Dom. 1674. (with Additions) for the satisfaction of his Friends.
A BALLAD
On the Famous Author of Joanereidos, or Feminine Valour (That Incomparable Piece, drawn some years since by his most Unimitatable Pencil.) To the Tune of *Or may indifferently suit with one of Tho. Sternhold's Airs, and be sung as a Hymn at a Conventicle.Chivy Chace.
I Sing the Man whose Lofty Muse,
With Zeal and Wit inspir'd,
Did Western Womens Valour chuse
To chant with Art acquir'd.
Strang is his Name, though Strong he writes,
Forgetting's Father's House,
Whom he neglecteth and thus slights
Because a Poor (a)his Father was a poor Tayler at Church-stoak in Dorsetshire ▪ and wrought for a Groat a day, his Pottage, and Bread and Cheese.Prick-Louse.
For ought he met him on the Road,
And in the Market-Town,
But would swell on him like a Toad,
And not his Parent own;
Though he had bred him up at School,
By'th help of (b)The Wor…hy Parson of Church-stoak and afterward Warden of Wadham-Colledge in Oxford.Doctor Pitts,
Yet hath he prov'd both Knave and Fool,
At least one not in's Wits.
At length to Oxford (c)James Strang our learned Author.Iames was sent,
And was there a Poor Scholar
A year or two, and from thence went
As he (d)A Poo… Scholar still.came. But when Choler
And heat of Zeal had prompted him
To be a Holder-Forth,
He then became as Spruce and Trim
As Any in South or North.
The Sacred (e)Having no Episcopal Ordination.Function he invades
Without a Lawful Call,
(As now adaies do Men of Trades,
Though learned not at all.)
And soon became a Teacher queint,
Zealous of Reformation,
Presently falling on the Point
Of dire Predestination.
Bishops and Deans he much decri'd
As Things intolerable,
The Surplice and the Cross beside
Were most abominable.
The (f)That had so charitably contributed both toward his Education and Instruction.Doctor he turn'd out of door,
And took into possession
His Lands, his Goods, and, which is more,
His Books by Sequestration.
These he remov'd to Bettescombe,
Which was his Benefice,
That did by Smock-Simony come
And with a Belly-piece.
His Wife he often did chastise,
Who was a (g)Mr. Mintern's Daughter in Dorset-shire.Gentlewoman,
And would her Beat and Kick, though Niece
To's Patron, (h)Old Brown of Brampton in Dorset was so called by N…l, for giving his Voice for bringing King Charles the First to his Tryal.the Old Roman.
She hap'ning on a Day to wipe
Her Shooes with Wash-dish Clout,
He therefore gave her many a stripe,
And at Door turn'd her out:
But takes the Clout and buries it
In holy Turf hard by,
Causing its Knell in Angry Fit
To be rung solemnly.
The Holy (i)He took the Font out of the Church, and made it his Pigs-trough.Font that raised was
For the Administration
Of Infant-Baptisme, he (alas)
Fed Pigs, and put his Wash in.
When (k)His Father was a Committee-man in Dorset-shire.Raw the Sequestrator had
Himself hang'd, through Despair,
Our Authour (as his Chaplain) made
A Sermon to repair
The Credit of this Fallen Saint,
And did him much applaud,
As one impatient of Restraint,
From being with his God.
This Corps which should have buried been
In some Cross-way and (l)It should have had a Stake driven through it.stak'd,
In Holy Ground interr'd was seen
By our Author, and up rak'd.
For being a Brother of the (m)The Good-Old Cause of the Long Parliament.Cause,
His Corps the Temple was
O'th Holy Ghost, though judg'd by th' Laws
The Carcass of an Ass.
But Iames at length so Pettish grew,
And eke so Cholerick,
That his Good-natur'd Consort knew
Not how to find the Trick
Of Pleasing him; and therefore left
His Bed, Board, House and All,
And to her Tender Parents cleft,
To shun her Husband's Brawl.
For Iimmy is an Eager Man,
Most Froward all his Life,
No Body near him Quiet can
Be, he's so full of Strife.
And 'tis because he is so Eager
And Spightful too withal,
That he is grown so Thin and Meagre
By Trouble and by Thrall.
His Tender-hearted Wife he did
Heart-break, as most Men think,
Though Some there be have boldly said
They know 'twas his Breath's stink.
For Iames doth breath so Ill an Air,
That he can Spiders slay
At three yards distance, and Few dare
I'th Room, where he is, stay.
This is the Cause that near his House
No Rose or Flower blows,
Nor on his Body will a Louse
Come, nor within his Clothes.
His Feet have eke so strong a Scent
That This our Fragrant Brother
Is often sent for with intent
To cure the Womens (n)A Disease incident to Women, proceeding from an Obstruction in the Matrix, which our Author is well known to be experimentally skill'd in removing.Mother.
For Feathers burnt are not so strong
In stinking, as his Toes,
Therefore they follow him in throng
Where ever Iimmy goes.
The second part to the same Tune.
But being at length Ambitious grown,
He could not be Content
With that (o)His Parsonage of Bettescombe.Small Lot which was his Own,
To Ilmister he went,
A Market-Town in Somerset,
And though a (p)Mr. Tarlton's Vicaridge.Sequestration,
Yet Iimmy's Throat could swallow it
Glibber than Ordination.
Our Author here increas'd in Wealth,
As well as in Renown,
Though what he got was All by stealth,
And was none of his Own.
A Purchaser he then became
Of House, and eke of Lands,
And rose to be a Man of Fame;
But he built on the Sands.
For moving from the Vicaridge-house
The Porch, unto his Own,
The Fact, so Sacrilegious,
Did throw his Own House down.
And being now a Widower,
He would a Wooing ride,
To get a Rich Wife, far or near,
His Palfrie he'd bestride.
In order whereunto, on goes
The Rich Black Velvet Coat,
(Which worn is, Every Body knows,
OnelyOnly by Men of Note.)
In This he swagger'd up and down
Ilmister, Taunton, Chard,
On Market-daies; scarce any Town
Near him, but saw, or heard
How Brave a Gallant Iimmy was
Become. But though the Skin
Without was Lion, yet the Ass
Enclosed was within.
Thus habited, our Author did
Accost with Complement
His Widow, and as fairly bid
With's Coat, and's Implement;
As Any could at One Congress,
Which prov'd so Fortunate,
She thought it her Great Happiness
To make him her Bed-mate.
But not her Belly is't alone
That he hath so well ply'd,
She often since hath made great Moan,
He beats her Back and Side.
For Iames can Cuff, Kick, Scratch, and Scold
Like any Butter-Quean,
He'l not be Thwarted or Control'd
By Ioan, Mall, Bess, or Iane.
And though he Female Valour rais'd
In Rich Heroick Verse,
Yet is our Author to be prais'd
In that he'l not turn Arse
To th' Weaker Sex. What ere the Song
Sayes, Iimmy, put up thy Dagger;
He will unsheath it, and among
His Country Lasses swagger.
For Iimmy's good at Poniard point
(The Western Women know it)
He'l pierce the Bone, and strike the Joynt
(Where's such another Poet?)
His Children very Many are,
But tatter'd so, and torn,
That, should you see them, you would swear
That they are quite forlorn.
On Carrion commonly he feeds,
(For his Appetite's Canine)
And therewith satisfies his Needs
Be't Bullock, Sheep, or Swine.
His Servants frequently complain
That he is so unjust,
As their Due Wages to detain;
Then summon him they must,
By Justice Warrant to Appear;
But Iames, This Man of Strife,
To save his Coin will boldly swear
He stands in fear of's Life:
And so doth cause them to be bound
Unto the Good Behaviour,
But if his Debt shall be disown'd
He himself will be their Saviour.
And yet will Iimmy pule and whine,
And make Devout-Bad Faces
I'th Pulpit, and look so Divine,
You'd think he'd All the Graces.
Did you but see him rhank his Nose
And hear its Zealous Twang,
This Instrument you'd swear, i'th Close,
At (q)Formerly the Famous Seminary of Schismaticks.New-Inne Hall was strang.
On the Masculine-Feminine Poem of Mr. Iames Strong, Poet Hermophrodite.
POET of Mars and Venus! sweetly met,
And as before embracing in a Net.
A Net so thin and wonderfully small,
You cannot but conclude it Cobweb all.
Only the Postures chang'd, for by thy knack
Venus is uppermost, and Mars on's back.
Cow'd Hercules must at the Distaff spin.
And Madam Omphale wears Lions skin.
The Female glory melted down thy head
As Flints are broken on a Feather-bed.
Pity it is for so much service done
Thy Pate's not washt from secret Helicon.
And with that Linnen to dear flesh so nigh
Thy sacred brows and lips were not wipt dry.
Sure they would do't; and it would soon come from' em
Thou hast so meltingly quite overcom' em.
Orpheus was once with furious Froes assail'd
But unto thee They've all their Kerchiefs vail'd,
Thou canst not stir abroad a Gossipping
But they their Caudles, Kisses, Amours bring.
They love thee for thy Name, and thy strong charms,
And all are ready Captives for thine arms.
Freely thou maist (if thou wilt not be shy)
With Hercules his thirteenth Labour vye.
Go on brave Man, and do not think it much
(As times shall serve) to give us tother touch.
Some plagiary Poets steal their Bayes,
And from what others writ their Trophyes raise.
From Homer, Virgil, much of glory drew,
And much of matter from old Ennius too.
But thou this honour hast (and be it known)
That what thou writest, purely is thine own.
Nor can we call thine Dogg'rel-Poetry
Great Laureat of dear Pres-bitchery.
Thy Name's immortal then, and shall still ring,
Whil'st Wives wear Breeches, and whilst Milk-maids sing.
On STRONG, and his more Stronger Poem.
STRONG is the Name, Strong is the Fame
Of this our Poet Iames,
Strong his Fancy's which out-prances
Valorous Western Dames.
Strong is his skull, like that of Bull,
Strong is his riming brain,
Strong is his Sconse as Parnass Mons
And Forked too some fain.
Strong are his Eyne, which by their shine
Pure Sistren comfort, Oh!
Strong his Eye-brow, like brisled Sow,
Her Arched back I trow.
Strong is his Snout, which high doth strout,
Strong both his breath and weazon,
Strong is the dinn, when from within
Bag-pipe lungs he plays-on.
Strong is his Lip, whose Muscles skip
More quick than nimble Hart.
Which tear and beat like Puss in seat,
Before his words do start.
Strong is his Mouth, and firm of growth,
And also heav'nly wide,
The many mops of's Monkey Chops
Shews Pug hast edified.
Strong is his Tongue, which sounds among
The Precious, Alarm's,
Ev'n to prevail unto Battail
'Gainst Antichrist his Arms.
Strongly he strives, by his Motives,
The Saints to set a-Gog;
Strongly to fight with all their might,
Against God and Magog.
Strong is his Chin, where Jaws do twin,
Thence forking back to Ear,
Strong is their Mass, like that of Ass
Made Philistine to fear.
Strong Teeth are set in Jaw's socket,
Which meat doth grind, and wrack,
Both great and small serve like Iackall
To Lion-like stomack.
When prey is got, They slow it not
Ne finee nor nibble,
He Eateth so, you would cry, Oh
Th'stroak of his Mandible!
Strong are the Wrist's, strong are the Twist's
Of face so scru'd with tricks,
That 'tis hard bout, for to squeese out
His Costive Rhetorick's.
Forehead's drawn back, when ginns to speak,
Back nose strong fibres draw,
You'd swear like vile, Monster of Nile
He'd ope his upper Jaw.
Strong is his Arm, which does much harm
To Feathers and to Wood,
When he did gin to beat down sin
'Tis marle the Pulpit stood.
Strong heart of Oak, rends ev'ry stroak
Laid on by furious skill
When he doth pump, then fist doth thump
Like Mall of Tucking-Mill.
Strong though and fierce, yet neretheless
Cunning grew hand, and meek,
When to advance in wise semblance
It stroak'd his Mistress Cheek.
But when all woo'd our Iamsee stood
Rectus in Curia,
He did embrace, and Wife solace
After the Russian way.
Strong were her tears, he perseveres
In Soul-Correcting sense,
Bangs hip and thigh, leav's place hard by
Undue Benevolence.
Strong since he grows, but weak his Spouse,
No otherwise we deem,
But Iames at length by tryed strength,
Confutes his own Poem.
Rog. Rimer of Doggrill-Hall.
The Book-Seller to the Reader.
THis matchless piece of Poetry falling into my hands, whether directed by Providence or by Accident, I shall not distinguish; but conceiving it to be of so much importance, in regard of the times, for comfort to those famous Western women, whose piety and valour deserve to be recorded amongst the worthiest of their Sex in this declining age, and may well serve as Presidents to others. And fearing lest some malignant spirits should have injured the Author, in exposing an imperfect copy, by reason the sundry transcriptions which this elaborate Poem hath much suffered in, the Author in this is rendered according to the Original. And whereas many obscure places would have admitted a double construction different from the Authors true meaning, you shall find the literal sense of those places explain'd by one that had a great insight into the Authors fancy. And for the better encouragement for a further progress, many Wits have presumed to lend their willing fancies, as servants to usher into the world these elaborate Poems; and though they appear to the eye but small lights to thy Sun, yet the reflexion from thee may in time make them worthy to be accounted thy Schollers; what literal errata's thou meetest with in the printing, let thy candid disposition pass by, and let not any fault lessen the worth of the Author, and him that is most ambitious how he may be accounted yours in all service,
Thomas Harrison.
To my most esteemed friend Mr. James Strong, cause these to be delivered.
Worthy Sir:
HAving had the unexpected happiness of seeing you at this Book-Sellers shop, I was so surprized with your reverend aspect, grave habit, and Schollar-like comportment, that I wanted confidence to address my self to you, being conscious of mine own unworthiness to deserve your knowledge: but returning to the shop the next morning, the Book-Seller was pleased to shew me the incomparable Poem, which assured me that sage out-side had a lining suitable; then was I enflamed with an affection too strong to be supprest, which hath now broke out in this address, humbly begging the happiness of your acquaintance, and the honour to prefix a copy of commendatory verses, when you oblige the world by making it publick: truly Sir, the little needle of my soul wrought so strongly after the great Load stone of yours, that I had designed the same gallant subject to my thoughts long since, and intended what you have beyond imitation performed, in so sweet a chyme of words and sense, so rare a contexture of stories, and so exquisite embellishments throughout the whole piece, that I must for ever be
The great admirer of your unparallel'd abilities, THO. ALLEN.
Honour'd Sir:
TO accept your courtesie might seem to argue vain glory, to deny it stupidity; whatever I am to others, I shall acquit my self of both, and deem my self unworthy to be so honoured, as to have either countenance or commendation from a man so drest with ingenuity: herein indeed will be my grief, that it smels of no more than (believe me) a year and halfs labour, whereby I may seem to undervalue your respects for so easily acquiring it; deal with it as you please, and to morrow if you please to give me a meeting at the three Daggers at nine of the clock, I shall not fail of attending you.
Your undeserving friend, I A. STRONG.
To my most ingenuous friend, Mr. James Strong, on his excellently well-pen'd Poem.
INimitable Sir, your lofty strain
So far transcends the lazy low-strung vein
Of those faint Rhimers which the world admir'd
For buskin'd raptures, that thou seemest fir'd
From the same flame, which whilom shone so bright,
It seem'd Meridian after the Star-light
Of meaner Poets, when great Gascoyn liv'd,
And Alexander Barklayes Muse contriv'd
That rare Translation of Brants stately *Navis stultifera.ship,
Fraught with those fools deserv'd his Satyrs whip:
I'de think their charming souls reviv'd in thee,
But that I find a vast disparity:
Their lines are easie, and their phrases common,
Thine are heroick, thy words us'd by no man;
And here the Sun sets brighter in the West,
Then earst it rose in the refulgent East;
Thou hast the disadvantage, but in time
Thy admirable Subject, and thy Rhyme
Will render thee more famous to the age
Ensuing, then the high Poetick rage
Of heathen wits, whose brows deserv'd but bays,
Whilst on thy reverent head these lines do raise
King Midas ornament, a guerdon due
Unto no mortal juster then to you:
Withers a man of Arms and Arts hath wrote
In gallant Rhyme, but thy immortal throat
Hath far out-voic'd him, and thy active Muse
Out-does his lance, and pen; all Pedlars use
Next unto Almanacks with care to buy
Their dear delight Tho. Pru's sweet Poetry,
Which spread in wickar scive, hath oft invited
The Chamber-maids with itch of verse delighted,
Unto their moving shops, where they do sell
Nothing but tape and needles half so well,
Thy stately Poem will usurp their place,
And bring them to the fatal sad disgrace
Of Chandlers shops, whilst thine alone are sung
With tuneful noise unto the long-ear'd throng;
Whose well-weigh'd praises will advance thy name
'Bove Heywood, Viccars, or Iohn Taylors fame
As far as e're the Bard past Aristarchus,
Or foolish Bavius was excell'd by Marcus.
Tho. Allen.
On this reverent Poem, and the more reverent Author.
ARms, and the man I sing, whose lines rehearse
The Western wenches doughty deeds, in verse;
More high, then (earst) the acts of Guy of Warwicke,
Southamptons Beavoys, or the Knight of Barwicke.
Assist Mol Cut-purse, and ye warlike bands,
That march towards Billings-gate with eager hands,
And tongues more loud then bellowing Drums, to scale
Oyster or Herring ships, when they strike sail
In that Creeks bosome; you the Muses are
Most fit to be invok'd to aid this war,
And the couragious Poet, that dares write
The Rare adventures of this doughty Knight,
Who in a Village Belfrey rul'd of late
The awing rod, and in that happy state
Each hour survey'd Pernassus double Hill,
When Lillys Rules, being pars'd or conster'd ill,
The weeping Lads mount woodden Pegasus;
How could the Pedant chuse being furnisht thus
But write this Poem in a motley stile,
Which first in bumbast prose he did compile?
With toyl and sweat out of a Dictionary,
Mixing some stories of the Virgin Mary,
And other Saints, whose names his babling tongue
(Fitter for Ballads) doth prophanely wrong.
Then buffeting his patient desk he bites
His nails, inspired with new fancy, writes,
Breaks off abruptly, knocks his empty scull,
Falls to't again, and with a mouth brim-full
Of spumy froth spits praises on that sex,
Tells inconsistent stories, which perplex
The sense, and his dull noddle, now at length
His hackney Muse is tir'd, and wanting strength
To trot on farther, ends his stately song,
With which his teeming brain travail'd as long
As breeding Elephants; but by the help
Of Midwives this his self resembling whelp
Is like the Moon-calf born, and as men carry
Their Monster-children, Satyr-like all hairy,
Distorted in their limbs, dwarfish in stature,
Or unlike men in any brutish feature,
From Villages to Cities where they show
By painted clothes hung out, the throng that go
Thorow those streets, that their admiring eyes
For two pence may behold those prodigies.
So learned Strong full sixty miles did travel,
Maugre all danger of the dirt and gravel,
From Village Belfrey unto London City
With many a weary step, to shew this pretty
Spawn of his ignorance, so like him in shape,
Owl was ne're liker Owl, nor Ape like Ape;
Ith' crooked lines of's face and hands you may
Each line within his Book fully survey,
And more exactly view wonder in both,
Then in the picture on the painted cloth:
Were he and his brat mine, I would out-vy
Thredesken, Gill, and all the frippery
In the Tower-wardrop, but in this I wrong
The Bookseller, unto whose shop the throng
Will hourly flock, amazed at the post,
Where this rare Frontispiece shall proudly boast
A sight so strange and pleasant, that his gain
Will equal thy expence in purse and brain.
Pedantick wretch, whilst thy much hop'd reward
(Ten shillings) is unpaid, without regard
Of thy necessity; but thou art sure
Of happiness above a Country cure
In Gotham Colledge; where the cap and bable,
The reverent Hood, and Tippet, shall enable
The learned Bible Clark to instal thee
Vice-President of their Society.
ALLEN. THOMAS.
Verses made into Meeter, whereby they might more illustriously give praise unto this Author, who whilom was a Student of the seventeen Liberal Sciences of New-Inn-Hall in Oxenford.
This may be either said, Or sung, To the Tune of When Sculls.
O Oxenford! old Oxenford!
how many Clerks I wis,
Learned in deed, and eke in word,
hast thou yspawn'd like this?
O New-Inn-Hall! New-Inn-Hall high!
how hast thou doctrinated
His plumbeous cer…brosity,
he is so subtil pated?
Some segregated are, I ween,
fro midst the ruder throng,
By Providence, so hath he been,
and plac'd Schollards among:
Where comptly nurtur'd up in good,
and savoury literature,
Sage words of wise he understood,
and put all eke in ure.
To argumentate he was taught
Syllogistically,
First to divisionating brought,
to define by and by:
But why alas? nay why alas?
should I by a gradation
Think to declare how he did pass
all men in disputation,
Or in mysterious Sciences,
As in M…ll-stones pellucid,
Saw quiddities, and entities,
and all that Art produced.
Much less how he, with sweat and pain,
drudged in Poetry,
And Mid-wiv'd gravitated brain
Swoln big with rapsody;
Taking Occasions fore-top then,
eft soons his mind he bent,
To write with paper, ink, and pen,
wars most sanguinolent.
With pulchritude of sense, and rhyme,
he strait charactered
West womens valour stout, what time
in Towns they were besieged.
And eke also what time in field,
at face of Foe they vaunted,
Whilst monstrous stones they nimbly wield,
and the fierce Souldiers daunted▪
O man of worth, memento now,
in height of glory, whence,
By dotes transfunded your scull through,
your learnt skilful-loquence:
And in requital of the same
on Bodley's Library,
Bestow this Book of greater fame,
than ever Groat did buy.
This was composed by A.B. quondam Student of Oxenford.
To the Author on this never-enough praised Poem.
EVen as the Sun, and eke the Wind,
With laughter fils the Elephant:
So do I thus to please my mind,
thy praise, O Author, loudly chaunt.
And as the Moon, and eke the Sky,
are nearer unto Heaven than Earth:
So also do I versifie,
being far from grief, and full of mirth.
Or as a man, and eke a woman,
is neither Horse, nor Dog, nor Cat:
So do I write, enforc'd by no man,
I know not, nor I care not what.
Or lastly, as a Harry Groat,
(being gray) is worth four single pence:
So is he worthy a fools Coat,
that writes to thee in rhyme or sense.
On the Lurned labour of this VVorshipful good Power.
ICh pray you Readers, have you no dizdain,
'Cause I an ing-rant, and unletterd zwayn,
'Mungst lurned Glarks do zomething notivy:
Good will unto the thang cleppt powetry;
Cham zore abasht with this rudeness to haundle
The point, or zhow forth with an hauf-penny caundle,
His worth to the world varr off and at haund,
'Mongst those houge bon-vires which before this book staund,
And make zike a cracklin blaze that ich ween,
My greazed Bul-rush will scauntly be zeen;
Yet ich do well ken that moany a mon,
Will pook out my intendiments better thon
Moony tales and names, in thuck lurned Powet,
Who ich do believe himselve did not know it,
But writ it, that we with wonderment mought
Think him in schollardzhip, marlous ztout;
Cham not zo well liked with his cunning wit,
As cham with the wonches he talks of in it,
Zike bounsing Lasses would hould a mon tack,
Though he had my tough gray vour horses back;
My teeth do water to wrestle a vall,
Though it were with the zdurdiest wench an um all:
Chave known the time when Maudlin and Joan,
And two ztouter girls the west hath not known,
Have vallen down vlat, and not stood upright,
When I gan ta buckle my tools to the vight,
And with my implement, and but twa stones,
Have clawd um zoundly both twice and once:
But vor thy meed, Sir John, if thou comst ere
Toward my zimple cottage ich'le make thee good cheer,
Of Uurmenty, White-pot, vat Bacon, and Cale,
And vill thy skin with March Beer, and Ale,
Uor the zweet sport chave had and tickling lafter,
That ich shall be merry vor ever hereafter,
When I think in my mind, that moony a parson,
Poor Uicar, and Reader, and Bell-fray whorson,
Durst never in verson zo doughty and bold,
Zince the cunning Bards, and the Monks of old,
Zet vorth the valourous deeds of women,
That have gen the voyl to moony ztout yeomen,
And dare in their zmocks without coat of Mayl
Incounter the ztrongest hind with his vlayl.
Go vorward, Sir John, and tell of the boys,
That are got on these girls in this time of noyse,
Will not do exbloyts vit vor thy high verze,
With bellowing zound zweetly to reherze,
Uor wich hereafter 'twill of thee be zeed,
Sir John, the Powet, had a harey head.
B. A.
A Sang made to gang to the Balliballeer, to the tune of the Authors praise, by B. A. of Aberdeen.
O Doughty Sankster, thy luggs sa lang,
Thy loins sa stark, thy wit sa strang,
Makes me agast with brussels upright,
As if I kend some uncouth wight,
How mought I than with dread beheld
Thy gude-wives drill in martial fleld?
And heave sike miccle stanes as I ween
In Albion Clyffs man never did ken,
But what recks that these willy coats gay,
Those fause lowns did well beat by my say,
Mare sare then unwhile in Muscleborough-field,
When the stern so pour Scots-men queld;
Ide lever have a gripp of anes crage,
And with twa stanes her bonny wem invade,
Then fra their weildy fists ha ane
At the fair mark of my noddle thrane.
Thus ta conclude my trim Scotch-hops now,
Mare prayses to thee I must allow,
Then to Rhymer Lord Sterline, and Mis-Davee Linfy,
And all they leave an um in Poyets frensy.
An Hymn, for to declare the Authors praise withal.
WHen sculs of men are sorely bent
to learned Poetry,
Then deeds of arms are sung in tent
full lofty-loftily.
Lo, in tall Verse the Authors self,
with Pen in ear so thick,
Doth brandish rhyme from Western clime,
of dead and eke of quick.
Of Gyants thumbs and Saracens ears,
he nill no care to take,
Of Ladies fell and Damsels keen,
his Poem is y make:
Whose brawny arms, full delicate,
distilling amber sweat,
Through trusty nose of Poet good
inspire no vulgar heat.
Tough quil in hand is hent most sure,
which goose so gray did bear,
In wrathful wise, he to the skyes
stern chivalry doth — clare.
With — phane and sacred history
y granished all o're,
The Maiden Fame is stretched out
from West, all eke to Nor'e.
No more in dirty socks, no more
shall Poet stride the plains:
Nor under fustian cap shall work
those bay-deserving brains.
On Sconce of hill bold squire of art
hath shook the Laurel tree,
His gols been washt in Pegase Fount
by Ladies three times three.
Moreo're, his face is Mouse-trap true,
o're done with bacon rinde,
To snap your Critick black or blue
where ere so them he find.
O soul of man, to glory bent!
may that day never come,
When Custard fond, or Tart more gay,
thy leaves to pavement doom.
Performed by one of the Wisdoms.