An Invitation to Lubberland WITH An Account of the great Plenty of that Fruitful Country.  
There is all sorts of Fowl and Fish,  
with Wine, and store of Brandy;  
Ye have there what your Hearts can wish,  
the Hills are Sugar-Candy.  
The Tune of, Billyand Molly, Or, The journeyman Shoe-maker.  

This may be Printed,  
R. P.   

hay for Lubberland   
 

THere is a ship we understand,  
now riding in the river,  
'Tis newly come from Lubberland,  
the like I think was never;  
You that a lazy life do love,  
I'd have you now go over,  
They say the land is not above  
two thousand leagues from Dover.   

The captain and the master too,  
does give us this relation,  
And so does all the whole ship's crew,  
concerning this strange nation  
The streets are paved with pudding-pies,  
nay, powder'd-beef and bacon,  
They say they scorn to tell you lies:  
Who thinks it is mistaken?   

The king of knaves, and queen of sluts  
reign there in peace and quiet;  
You need not fear to starve your guts,  
there is such store of diet:  
There may you live free from all care,  
like hogs set up a fattening,  
The garments which the people wear,  
is silver, silk, and satin.   
 
 

The lofty buildings of this place,  
for many years have lasted,  
With nutmegs, pepper, cloves, and mace,  
the walls are there rough casted,  
In curious hasty-pudding boiled,  
and most injensous carving;  
Likewise they are with pancakes tied,  
sure, here's no fear of starving.   

The captain says, In every town,  
hot roasted pigs will meet ye,  
They in the streets run up and down,  
still crying out, Come eat me:  
Likewise he says, at every feast,  
the very fowls and fishes,  
Nay, from the biggest to the jest,  
comes tumbling to the dishes,   

The rivers run with claret fine,  
the brooks with rich canary,  
The ponds with other sorts of wine,  
to make your hearts still merry:  
Nay, more than this, you may behold,  
the fountains flows with brandy,  
The rocks are like refined gold,  
the hills are sugar-candy.   

Rose-water is the rain they have,  
which comes in pleasant showers  
All places are adorned brave,  
with sweet and fragrant flowers.  
Hot custards grows on every tree,  
each ditch affords rich jellies;  
Now if you will be ruled by me,  
go there and fill your bellies.   

There's nothing there but holidays;  
with music out of measure;  
Who can forbear to speak the praise,  
of such a land of pleasure?  
There may you lead a lazy life,  
free from all kind of labour:  
And he that is without a wife,  
may borrow of his neighbour.   

There is no law not lawyers fees.  
all men are free from fury,  
For every one does what he please,  
without a judge or jury:  
The summertime is warm they say,  
the winter's never the colder,  
They have no landlords rend to pay,  
each man is a freeholder.   

You that are free to cross the seas,  
make no more disputation,  
In Lubberland you'll live at ease,  
with pleasant recreation:  
The captain waits but for a gale  
of prosperous wind and weather,  
And th●● they soon will hoist up sail,  
make haste away together.    

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Gilt-spur-street.