PORTSMOUTH OBSERVED and DESCRIBED.  
27. Sept. 1684.  

POrtsmouth, a place by Nature, and by Art,  
That need not care for any Foe a fart:  
Well Garrisoned, well Gunned, well Fortified;  
Seas wait on her every flowing Tide:  
Stretching their Arms for to embrace the Waste  
Of Portsmouth, (kind as Seas, and just as chaste).  
It's Harbour's large, Convenient and Safe;  
Brave Lakes and Roads, as any Town can have.  
Royal Wood Castles here, and daily seen,  
And here King Charles, God bless Him, wooed the Queen.  
Thus far all's good you hear; but yet, because  
Sweet meats ofttimes do meet with sour Sauce;  
I'll turn it inside out, and you shall view  
It like a Pilgrim scarcely worth a q:  
Do not believe me (for perhaps I lie;)  
Seeing's believing, come yourselves and try.  
An Egg a penny, that is cheap and good,  
Respecting rates here paid for Country food.   

Here take a taste, and by this Bill of fare,  
Judge how Tarpallings entertained are;  
Two silly Widgins, that a Shilling cost,  
Are reckoned to us half a Crown when Rost.  
A pair of Brand-geeses (big as Mallards' just)  
Shall cost four Shilling, when on Spit they're trust.  
And a poor Country Calf's head cannot be  
Boiled, Dished, and Garnished, under three-times three:  
A little Crow's nest (which they Faggots name,  
Shall one poor Reckoning above a Crown inflame.  
These (and the like) are causes that I swear,  
Flesh, Fish, and every thing we eat is dear,  
Besides the Sauce (and there's the Devil and all:  
Beer's puddle thick, and Wine is woeful small.  
What the Women be (in faith I tell no lie)  
I cannot tell, because I ne'er did try.  
The Airs unwholesome, Barren as the Sand;  
The People slothful, nothing understand,  
But sacred thirst of Gold, and that they love  
Better than Life, or Soul, or God above.  
For I must tell you, Their Religion is  
Of Argentora, that's their only bliss.   

Of Flesh here's plenty, and Friends if you please,  
I will describe them, they are such as these:  
Of Rationals, here's Cheats, Bawds, and a trade  
Of men called Cuckolds (such as God ne'er made).  
Pardon me Masters, if my Muse be sharp,  
Galled Jades will kick, and none but Momes will carp.  
Of Bruits here's Foxes, Wolf's, and Ass' store,  
Fat Oxen, Calves, why not a Bull and Boar?   

Of Fowl here's also choice, the Gripe, the Gull,  
The Cormorant that would Humber and Hull;  
Swallow at once; the Woodcock and the Owl,  
The Goose, the Buzzard, and of lesser Fowl.  
The Jay, the Parrot, and the Nightingale,  
That sings full sweetly (but they often quail,)  
With hundreds more; but if you ask what Fish  
Is here; draw near I pray, and choose your Dish.  
Here's a Monstrous great Voracious Whale,  
That lives on Money, swallows the Devil and all.  
A shoal of Sharks, great Cod, poor Jack, Old-Ling,  
Maids, (but they're small) and Sirens sometimes sing.  
If Portsmouth for its Plenty reckoned be  
A Heaven to any, 'tis a Hell to me.  
God bless me hence, and keep hence every Friend:  
Then as I did begin, I'll sweetly end;  
Portsmouth is strong, so nature first did make it;  
Art made it stronger; But the Devil take it.    

LONDON: Printed for Randall Taylor, near Stationer's Hall, 1684.