Momus Elencticus Or a light Come-off upon that serious piece of drollery presented by the Vice Chancellor of Oxon in the name of all his Myrmidons at Whitehall, to expel the Melancholy of the court, and to tickle its gizzard with a Landscape of dancing Friars to their own Music and Numbers. STrike up my dull Muse, and twang me a ditty, In the elephant strain of the Vniver— sitty, 'tis a tuneable age, and all Trades grow witty, Room for Cuckolds. The Heads of all Houses with their privy Members, Have wound up their Fancies long raked in the embers, To drown all the squibs of our blazing Novembers Whip Sr. Davy But wots you for what this clutter was made? 'Twas all to be praise the success that we had The Spirit so spurred that it almost turned Jade Tytere tu boys. So up they pickpacked in a long chequered crew, In several dresses of several hue, Old Coventry Doctors and Masters as blue Hap at a venture Some Latin, some Greek, but they strained hard, Till they were out-thrown by the old British Bard, The French (with a pox) had almost all marted Stand at your distance. The rest in plain English brought each man his hymn, As his fancy godsnig: drew up to the brim, There's scarce an old Ballad but has lost a limb, March on Tailors. The first of th' Artillery that did give fire Was a great Gun of Christ-Church the biggest of the Choir, A welsh man I wi● by his gate and attire Well a go to then The Vice Chencellor (bear back) a word still in fashion, A Doctor at least of the latest Creation, The cutted Analysis of Reformation Pandite Pie crust. He gaped, and he voided a tedious Epistle, Wherein if you find one grain of salt, whistle, But 'twas (suo more) an Ass mumbling a thistle. Salve tu quoque. Up last the Steepl his Deanship did climb, In a Hogen Mogen pitiful Rythme, Like the Chimes of Carfax without tune or time Caesare fultus. Had his wit been at the University charge, As well as his journey to Whitehall in a Barge, The expense of his brain had been much more large, Friend in a corner He closed them at last with a great deal of do With much rubbling and reaching and bodgelling too, A Sermon we expect to be due Aglogh whee Reglous The next that offered to proffer was Hoyl, A transplanted root from the low Country soil, That at Rome's proud gates would never turn tail, Hold a blow Jenkin. The Pope, and his Crown, and Catholical glory He killed, and laid out in ashes before you, Nay and more, he set fire on Purgatory Country man quarter Altitonant Wall next saddles Peg-Assus, And fetched blood in three tongues from the shins of Parnassus: He frisked as a man would say God bless us Enter praesentor The distillations of rain and peace Had like to have melted Johannes his grease, For joy that his Stipend was like to increase 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Than Langley the Master of Pembroke College Pricked up his ears full of heavenlified knowledge, This was the spare wit almost of his whole Age Parce tyroni. And he will revenge the Saints on the Pope Though this valour in him were passed all our hope; And threatens no less than blood faggot and rope Have amongst you blind harpers Next Roberts of Jesus that doughty good Card, The principality of her Country to ward Tunes up her pipes in a double regard O puddere he vaw! First her Latinity takes up a Page To as little purpose as the Scots did engage, At last the welsh blood in her veins did assuage Welsa whee humble Bee But I leave you, Learned Sir, and your mountanious Song, Lest I do you (as you your College) much wrong, To the Devil, the Father and founder of the tongue Vale Tom piper. Next Savage and Zouch small strains did conceive, And their Muses and mountains did seem much to heave, The Peace they says made, and so they took leave Green goose and cheesecake. Next Button and Say, and G.O. did meet In Hebrew well englished and latin shod feet, And made a hard shift to bedaub a half sheet Nicholas Nemo. In Heroical Buskins J. Maplet appears, In hard phrases and axioms dressed up to the ears, As though he'd mount over the tops of the spheres, Lingua quo vadis. The sight of his Doctorship in black and white Put all the ships and their thunder to flight, His Opium has wrapped up the wars in long night Valde probatum. Jo. Harmarus then comes in by the teeth, O had his theme been a good chine of beef, He had coursed him the field past any relief! Mount Cabal boys The next that pursued the tragical Doctor, Was Hexameter S.C. the New College Proctor, Had not Belgia been quiet 'tis doubt he'd have knocked her Ritu Bocardo Thom. Lockey of Christ-Church, and Terrent likewise Their wishes and sighs propound to our eyes, And Bathurst of Trinity seems to advise Gently good Joan th●● Jones and Everard, E. H. and Quin, Dick Bryan and bagshaw god give you good din, Thom. Cole and J. Ward come ambling all in hay for our Town! Will. Carpenter too a Master of Art, Whence his Greek proceeded it puzzles my heart, But he writ a good hand and his Author was smart Ind praetereo. The Students and Commoners like horse and foot, Advanced in their ranks and came bodily to't, For the youngsters alas knew their Tutors could do't Jure divino. Much pumping there was and a great deal of pother And many in zeal road over one another, But more gave false fire and their valour did smother Causa malignans. In couples they tied the two Nations at last And bound up the Amnesty in shackles fast, And the Hollanders home to their Harbours they chased Fadingdo dincktido. Only L. Atterbury to heighten his strain (And there I confess he tickled the vein) Thanks the Protector instead of God for the rain Ritu v●catum. Some fellows there were, though they thought they had none, To save their bacon penned many a smooth song Which I hope they have repent or will do ere long Cave Caveto. Harry Berkhead (pox on't) what makest thou in the pack? With a Comment like a Pedlar tru●●'d up at thy back? Their sma●l drink will never agree with thy Sack Paribus Impar. In stone-dead English the rest did advance, Only one packet brought letters from France; And two in welsh measures the morris did dance Tallerie whisko. And first R.B. of Trinity muttered In old fashion Syllables some what was sputtered He called him Augustus and away he fluttered Lank●ri down dilly. Next Brooks the Principle of Saint Mary Hall, Made my Lord start, though he had never a fall, But he quickly pul●'d in his Muse, brows, horns and all Mouse in a cheese-vate. Next Gorges of john's his Thalia did reel, Put his hand in his pocket and swore blood and steel, But thanks be given his fist no man did feel. Merciful Atropos; Ned Bagshaw again upon the foe fell, And like Corrector of the Press compareed it so well, That he left his Highness without parallel, What can a man do? Next Stanley brought what his friends could indite, And Humbarston added, though it were but a mite, And Hatley inflamed called him Mars his huge knight, Construe me that verse. But now my Cleavelandified Matthew trowls in With a mouth full of dragons that poisoned his skin, But 'twas said his bombast Muse was on the pin Rousty Ca●ousty. In whirlwinds and earth quakes he punned and made faces, In Porcupine's quills and Cyclopic traces, He frisked and he winced in the tribe of Many-Asses Mouncy Irouncy. He so smoked and so stunk in his furious gears, Till the Alderman's fur flew over his ears, If he catch him he'll give him a pennyworth of pears Hares head and Giblets Some Readers have construed this gallant I trow For the dainty fine snip snap should fore run the show, Though the worthies have tipped him quite out of their row Plangite Make sport Next Hodges dares promise the age shall be gold, But I prithee good Student dost hear? Say and hold. For the dread of that Prophecy makes my heart cold Salve sound taxes. Dick Page with Levies and Subsidies next, And the Public faith tortures the text, But these for long time have the people sore vexed No more of that string. The rest are not worth the continuing the chase, Only Jo. Ford forced smiles in my face, For instead of rythming he fell to say grace Farewell good tokens. Len. Leichfield too ventures the flame in the rear, Yet how he turned poet pray hold a blow there, But he quickly found friends, being Beadle Esquire Plaudite fat gut. Thus their subject was high and their eloquence mighty, Pray Gentiles draw nigh here shall nothing affright you, The Squib's at an end, and so Mounsiers good night t' you Domine E●s.