Some to — kiss with farmers spouses,
And make merry in their houses;
Some to tumble country wenches
On their rushy beds and benches;
And if they begin a fray,
Draw their swords, and run away;
All to murder equity,
And to take a double fee;
Till the people all are quiet,
And forget to broil and riot,
Low in pocket, cow'd in courage,
Safely glad to sup their porridge,
And vacation's over — then,
Hey, for London town again.
THE PUPPETSHOW.
THE life of man to represent,
And turn it all to ridicule,
Wit did a puppetshow invent,
Where the chief actor is a fool.
The gods of old were logs of wood,
And worship was to puppets paid;
In antick dress the idol stood,
And priest and people bow'd the head.
No wonder then, if art began
The simple votaries to frame,
To shape in timber foolish man,
And consecrate the block to fame.
From hence poetick fancy learn'd
That trees might rise from human forms;
