The New Courtier:  
The Tune is, Cloris, since thou art fled away, etc.  
 
 

UPon the Change where Merchants meet  
'Twixt Cornhill and Thredneedle-street;  
Where Wits of every size is hurled,  
To treat of all things in the World:  
I saw a folded Paper fall,  
And upon it, these words were writ,  
Have at all.   

Thought I, if Have at all. it be,  
For aught I know, 'tis have at Me:  
And (if consequence be true)  
It may as well be Have at You:  
Then listen pray to what I shall,  
In brief declare, what's written there:  
Have at all.   
SONG.  

I Am a Courtier, who in sport,  
Do come from the Utopian Court,  
To whisper softly in your Ear,  
How high we are, and what we were:  
To tell you all would be too much,  
But here and there a little touch,  
Have at all.   

I was not many years ago,  
In tattered trim from top to toe:  
But now niy ruin'd Robes are burned,  
My Rags are all to Ribbons turned:  
My Patches into Pieces fall,  
I cog a die, Swagger and Lie,  
Have at all.   

Upon my Pantelonian Pate  
I wear a Milliner's Estate:  
But when he Duns me at the Court,  
I show him a Protection for't:  
Whilst he both to Protesting fall,  
I cry, Damn me, Sir, you lie,  
Have at all.   

Since Venus' shaved off my Hair,  
A powdered Periwig I wear,  
Which brings me in the Golden Girls,  
Game-Royal for Dukes, Lords and Earls:  
When Love doth for a cooler call,  
My fancy drives, at maids & wives,  
Have at all.   

The Second Part,  
to the same Tune.  
 

MY Lodgings never are at quiet,  
Another Duns me for my Diet,  
I had of him in Fifty three,  
Which I forgot, so did not he:  
I call him saucy Fellow, sirrah,  
And draw my Sword to run him thorough  
Have at all.   

Yet once a Friend that saved my Life,  
Who had a witty wanton wife,  
I did in (courtesy) requite,  
Made him a Cuckold, and a Knight:  
Which makes him mount like Tennis ball,  
Whilst she & I, together cry:  
Have at all.   

But yet these Citts are subtle Slaves,  
Most of them Wits, and knowing Knaves;  
We get their Children, and they do,  
From us get Lands, and Lordships too:  
And 'tis most fit in those affairs  
The Lands should go to the right hairs  
Have at all.   

A Soldier I directly hate:  
A cavalier once broke my Pate  
With Cane in hand he overcome me  
And took away my Mistress from me:  
for I confess I love a Wench  
Be she English, Irish, Dutch, or French  
Have at all.   

A Soldier's life is not like mine  
I will be Plump when he shall Pine?  
My Projects carry stronger force  
Than all their Armed Foot and Horse:  
What though his mortar-pieces roar  
My Chimney-peeces shall do more:  
Have at all.   

Thus I have given you in short  
A Courtier of Utopian Court.  
I Write not of Religion,  
For (to tell truly) we have none.  
If any me to Question call,  
With pen or Sword, Hab Nab's the Word  
Have at all.     

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and T. Passenger.