A COPY OF VERSES PRESENTED ●o all my Worthy Masters and Mistresses, In the Parish of St. Marry Newingtons-but, in Southwark. By WILLIAM MAJOR, Bellman. depiction of William Major, Bellman The PROLOGUE. Leaving all Paths by me before times trod, I now resolve to take another road; That Muse, that lately women's Virtues praised, And to their Honours lasting, Toophies raised. Must leave her own dear Sex and Court the men, That they and I may once be Friends again; For shhuld we not do this I dare to swear, I must not Ring my Bell another year. Of Men in General. ●n his Maker's Image, and the Crown all the Works which in six days were done, man the Monarch of the Universe, ●nto Dame Nature and would pierce ●n itself, had he but power to do, ●●mense desires would prompt him to; ●…ite, to man these Lines I give ●uch to Gain, by such to Live. Their Virtues. ●an an Impious Creature or a Rude ●ormed Lump, devoid of Fortitude, ●●ove, Justice, given to all Vice, ●●●e, Contention, Avarice, ●●…on beat Hemp, as sing their praise Adorn their Heads with Bays. ●●…y good Embrace, avoid all Ill, Commend them, and I will. A Prudent man. ●●●…e, thou ballast of mankind, O how 〈◊〉 directed by thee here below! ●ndued, man tak●● 〈◊〉 Lofty flight, Eagle soars quite out of sight, ●●●…'s coming, and prevents what's Ill ●●●…s Measures with such curious Skill, all others are compelled to fall is Ground, and hath no harm at all. On a Learned man. 〈◊〉 piece of grave Impertinence, 〈◊〉 stored with all, but Reason, Wit, and Sense, ●s fit for nought at most, to make a Whipping-Post. Ingenious Spark, (whose Learning known) call the Universe his own; ●●…dge, while humble Supplicants greet ●heir Praises, prostrate at his Feet. On a Pious man. ●●●…ly Prudence, humane Learning we ●●quire without true piery; ●●●omplishments, like Morning dew, 〈◊〉 Vanish, and forsake us too. that spark of Heavenly Fire, our Souls up to the Clouds aspire, to Earth, we once have farewell given ●…ows us with the Joys of Heaven. On a Valiant man. ●hose undaunted Courage nothing fears, ●●t Valiant are when Danger most appears, ●●●ger calls, and Honour leads the way, they follow, and with Pride Obey; s as thick as Dust, come rallying on brag what Noble acts have done, maintain their Posts, they scorn to fly ●o means 'twixt Death and Victory. On a Patient man. ●●ttle heats that others so disturb, him are but diversion, of a Curb to hamper Anger, and digest Ferments of his quiet breast: ●●fects of Pasion in another, to such, to learn them how to smother; Unquietness which once confined, quiet settles in the mind. On a just man. ● the threats or favours of a Crown ●●…ch man's whisper, or a Proud man's Frown, Pomps, and Pleasures that do wait Places and Affairs of State, Can frighten or allure that settled mind, Which to strict Justice firmly is inclined. No like a Rock he bravely steams the Tides, And in the midst of Danger safe abides. On a Faithful man. GIve me the man on whom you may depend Who will not leave you till your Journeys end, Who faithfully dare serve you, whilst he may Let Death or Danger, or the Devil say nay, To whom with confidence, you may impart The very utmost Secrets of your heart, Thrice happy they, who of such Friends have store They have enough, they need not wish for more. On a Charitable Man FAith, Hope, and Charity, are three great things To help us forewarned to the King of Kings, They all are needful, yet of all the three The greatest is the Grace of Charity, And by the Apostle as it is expressed, It seems to be the glory of all the rest, If so, then Charitable men may doubtless claim Then other men a more Illustrious name. Application to my Masters. MY Faith is such, that I believe of you What these my Verses offer to your view, I think you Prudent, Pious, Learned, Stout, Patient, Just, Faithful, I make no doubt You're Charitable too, which if I find All things succeed according to my mind, But if you make me a Liar, now I swear I shall not dare to Write another year. On the Times. What means this Clutter? did you ever see Such great Canary-Birds take wings and flee What Peter too? the Devil's in the Dice, He that would make of us a Sacrifice, Himself is packed away, a pretty Tool (And as the Proverb says,) more Knave than Fool, The Plots discovered, and the Blade (if caught) We need not doubt will surely go to pot. On the Princis' Army. MArch on, brave Prince, Olet thy Troops March on there's none to'oppose the day is clearly won, March on, brave Prince, and let no time be lost Thy Foes have felt thy Courage to their cost. See with what eager, and submissive Feet All Real Protestants his Highness greet, He comes they cry, our Laws he will restore And keep us from all Popish Force and Power. On Popish Intrigues. What are your Measures countermind? and how? Would not the English to your Idols bow? Would they not Stoop t'abolish Tests and Laws? Or like dull Cowards tamely yield their Cause? One would have thought the Jesuit Grew, Can have outwitted Men and Devils too, But now their Policies are overcome, The Heretics have been too hard for Rome. Farewell to Popery. FArewell, unholy holiness, farewell, Thou Seed of Lucifer, and Spawn of Hell, Pack up thy Trinkets go, and come no more This Land hath had too much of thee before, We likewise felt thy kindness now of late, Which was to Ruin both our Church and State; But see how Providence hath turned the Dice, You ran the Race but we have got the Price. To the Weavers. MAsters, i'th' midst of Plenty ne'er be poor Of Orange coloured Ribbon make good store, You need not fear the Vent, you need not fear But every man would fain his Colours wear, All hands to work, that thing no Drug can be That shows you what hath Banished Popery, And while you work, you merrily may sing 'twas Orange, Orange only did the thing. On myself. When I am Drinking, Wife to the Alehouse comes And like a Devil fires all her Bombs, I simply on her Arm perhaps lay hold And cry O do not, prithee do not scold A douze oth'Chaps, or out thou Drunken Cur, Is all the answer I can have from her; I must go with her, let who will say nay, If She commands I dare not disobey. My Wives Answer. COxcomb tell true, did I ere fetch you home, Unless yourself commanded me to come Did I ere Scold, or call you Drunken Whelp This is a Deulish Lie so God me help, Faith Masters, I say you're as bad as he If you believe him when he rails at me, He knows 'tis false yet hath the Brazen-Face, To Publish Lies to bring me to disgrace. The EPILOGUE Masters, believe me, I have wrrt enough, And too much too, unless 'twas better stuff. But as it is, accept it in good part, And Major will rejoice with all his heart. And this I promise you if ere I do Commence a POET I'll be kind to yo you. But till such time I hope you'll be so kind, To give me what I want, you know my mind. LONDON: Printed by John Wallis, in White-Fryers, Anno. Dom. 1689.