This Book, will make a Travailer of thee.
If by its Counſel thou wilt ruled be;
It will direct thee to the Holy Land,
If thou wilt its Directions underſtand:
Yea, it will make the ſloathful, active be
The Blind also, delightful things to see.
Art thou for something rare, and profitable?
Wouldeſt thou see a Truth within a Fable?
Art thou forgetful? wouldeſt thou remember
From New-years-day to the laſt of December?
Then read my fancies, they will ſtick like Burs,
And may be to the Helpleſs, Comforters.
This Book is writ in ſuch a Dialect,
As may the minds of listleſs men affect;
It ſeems a Novelty, and yet contains
Nothing but found, and honeſt Goſpel-ſtrains.
Wouldſt thou divert thy ſelf from Melancholly?
Would'ſt thou be pleaſant, yet be far from folly?
Would'ſt thou read Riddles, & their Explanation?
Or else be drownded in thy Contemplation?
Dost thou love picking meat? or would'ſt thou see
A man i'th Clouds, and hear him ſpeak to thee?
Would'ſt thou be in a Dream, and yet not ſleep?
Or would'ſt thou in a moment laugh, and weep?
Would'ſt thou loose thy ſelf, and catch no harm?
And find thy ſelf again without a charm?
Would'ſt read thy self, and read thou know'st not what
And yet know whether thou art bleſt or not,
By reading the ſame lines? O then come hither,
and lay my Book, thy Head,and Heart together.
