Good night, says Sue, to her sweetheart, Hugh; Good night, says every one. Some walk'd, and some did run; Some loiter'd on the way, And bound themselves by kisses twelve To meet the next holiday. EPIGRAM. SAMUEL BUTLER. HE jolly members of a toping club Like pipe-staves are, but hoop'd into a tub; And in a close confederacy link For nothing else, but only to hold drink. We'll fall on the must, we'll fall on the presses, We'll make the boards groan with our grievous caresses; No measure, I say; no order, but riot; No waiting nor cheating; we'll drink like a Sciot: Drink, drink, and drink when you've done; Pledge it and frisk it, every one; Chirp it and challenge it, swallow it down: He that's afraid is a thief and a clown. Good wine's a gentleman; He speedeth digestion all he can ; No headache hath he, no headache, I say, A COAT OF ARMS. FROM WESTMINSTER DROLLERY.] GREAT pretender to gentility Came to a herald for his pedigree: Beginning there to swagger, roar, and swear, The herald, knowing what he was, begun Told him he was a gentleman of note, And that he had a very glorious coat. "Prithee, what is't?" quoth he, " and take your fees." 66 Sir," says the herald, " 'tis two rampant trees, One couchant; and, to give it further scope, A ladder passant, and a pendant rope. And, for a grace unto your blue-coat sleeves, BE NOT A WIT. TOM D'URFEY. FATHER, says Dick, could you taste the delights Were you once but to hear the conundrums and quibbles, You would think a whole night most gloriously spent ; And wou'd guess by our wit, and the course that we follow, Ah! Dick, says the father, take care, I intreat ye, Puns, quibbles, and tales, to supply the defect; That whenever you meet with a generous chub, You may sneak out a jest in the room of your club: For a wit is no more than a merry Tom Fool, A satirical scourger, or a flattering tool. |