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27
A Journey into Worcestershire.
Three, who (if kinder Destinies shall please)
May all dye rich, though they love Wit, and ease;
And I, whom some odde hum'rous Planet bid
To register the doughty acts they did,
Tooke horse; leaving ith' Town, ill Playes, sowre Wine,
Fierce Serjeants and the plague; besides of mine
An Ethnick Taylor too, that was farre worse
Than these, or what just Heaven did ever curse.
Scarce was the busie Citie left behind,
But from the South arose a busier Winde;
Which sent us so much raine, each man did wish,
His hands and leggs, were Finnes, his Horse, a Fish.
Dull as a thick-skull'd-Iustice, drunke with Sloth;
Or Alderman (farre gone in Capon Broth)
May all dye rich, though they love Wit, and ease;
And I, whom some odde hum'rous Planet bid
To register the doughty acts they did,
Tooke horse; leaving ith' Town, ill Playes, sowre Wine,
Fierce Serjeants and the plague; besides of mine
An Ethnick Taylor too, that was farre worse
Than these, or what just Heaven did ever curse.
Scarce was the busie Citie left behind,
But from the South arose a busier Winde;
Which sent us so much raine, each man did wish,
His hands and leggs, were Finnes, his Horse, a Fish.
Dull as a thick-skull'd-Iustice, drunke with Sloth;
Or Alderman (farre gone in Capon Broth)
Wee
