THE COFFEE HOUSE OR NEWS-MONGERS HALL..  
In which is shown their several sorts of Passions,  
Containing News from all our Neighbour Nations.  
A POEM.  

YOu that delight in Wit and Mirth,  
And long to hear such News,  
As comes from all Parts of the Earth,  
Dutch, Danes, and Turks, and Jews,  
I'll send ye to a Rendezvous,  
Where it is smoking new;  
Go hear it at a Coffe-house,  
It cannot but be true.   

There Battles and Sea-Fights are Fought,  
And bloody Plots displayed;  
They know more Things then ere was thought,  
Or ever was betrayed:  
No Money in the Minting-house  
Is half so Bright and New;  
And coming from a Coffe-house,  
It cannot but be true.   

Before the Navyes fall to Work.  
They know who shall be Winner,  
They there can tell ye what the Turk  
Last Sunday had to Dinner;  
Who last did Cut the Ruyters Corns,  
Amongst his jovial Crew;  
Or who first gave the Devil Horns,  
This sounds as if 'twere true.   

A Fisherman did boldly tell,  
And strongly did avouch,  
He Caught a Shoal of Mackarel,  
That Parleyed all in Dutch,  
And cried out Yaw, Yaw, Yaw mine Heer;  
But as the Draught they drew,  
They stunk for fear, our Fleet being near,  
Which cannot but be true.   

There's nothing done in all the World,  
From Monarch to the Mouse,  
But every Day or Night 'tis hurled  
Into the Coffe-house.  
What Lily or what Booker can  
By Art, not bring about,  
At Coffe-house you'll find a Man,  
Can quickly find it out.   

They'll tell ye there, what Lady-ware,  
Of late is grown too light;  
What Wiseman shall from Favour fall,  
What Fool shall be a Knight;  
They'll tell ye when our failing Trade,  
Shall rise again, and Flourish,  
And when Jack Adam's first was made  
Churchwarden of the Parish.   

They know who shall in Times to come,  
Be either made, or undone,  
From great St. Peters-street in Rome,  
To Turnbul-street in London;  
And likewise tell, at Clerkenwell,  
What Whore hath greatest Gain;  
And in that place, what Brazen-face  
Doth wear a Golden Chain.   

At Sea their Knowledge is so much,  
They know all Rocks and Shelves,  
They know all Councils of the Dutch,  
More than they know themselves;  
Who 'tis shall get the best at last,  
They perfectly can show  
At Coffe-house, when they are placed,  
You'd scarce believe it true.   

They know all that is Good, or Hurt,  
To Damn ye, or to Save ye;  
There is the College, and the Court,  
The Country, Camp, and Navy;  
So great a University.  
I think there ne'er was any;  
In which you may a Schoolar be  
For spending of a Penny.   

A Merchant's Apprentice there shall show  
You all and every thing,  
What hath been done, and is to do,  
'Twixt Holland and the King;  
What Articles of Peace will be,  
He can precizely show;  
What will be good for Them or We,  
He perfectly doth know.   

Here Men do talk of every Thing,  
With large and liberal Lungs,  
Like Women at a Gossipping,  
With double tire of Tongues;  
They'll give a Broadside presently,  
Soon as you are in view,  
With Stories that, you'll wonder at,  
Which they will swear are true.   

The Drinking there of Chochalat,  
Can make a Fool a Sophy:  
'Tis thought the Turkish Mahomet  
Was first Inspired with Cough,  
By which his Powers did Overflow  
The Land of Palestine:  
Then let us to, the Coffe-house go,  
'Tis Cheaper far then Wine.   

You shall know there, what Fashions are;  
How Perrywiggs are Curled;  
And for a Penny you shall hear,  
All Novels in the World,  
Both Old and Young, and Great and Small,  
And Rich, and Poor, you'll see:  
Therefore let's to the Cough All,  
Come All away with Me.    

London, Printed by E. Crouch, for T. Vere, at the Angel without Newgate▪ 1672.