To the Platonick that applies His clear addresses onely to the mind; The body but a Temple signifies, Wherein the Saints inshrin’d, To him it is all one, Whether the walls be marble, or rough stone; Nay, in holy places, which old time defaces, More devotion’s shown. _The Ghost-Song._ ’Tis late and cold, stir up the fire, Sit close, and draw the table nigher, Be merry, and drink wine that’s old, A hearty medicine ’gainst the cold; Your bed[’s] of wanton down the best, Where you may tumble to your rest: I could well wish you wenches too, But I am dead, and cannot do. Call for the best, the house will ring, Sack, White and Claret, let them bring, And drink apace, whilst breath you have, You’l find but cold drinking in the grave; Partridge, Plover for your dinner, And a Capon for the sinner, You shall finde ready when you are up, And your horse shall have his sup. Welcome, welcome, shall flie round, And I shall smile, though under ground. _You that delight in Trulls and Minions,_ _Come buy my four ropes of St. ~Omers~ Onions._ _FINIS._ Table of First Lines _To the Songs and Poems in_ CHOICE DROLLERY, 1656. (NOW FIRST ADDED.) page. _A Maiden of the Pure Society_ 44 _A story strange I will you tell_ 31 _A Stranger coming to the town_ 16 _And will this wicked world never prove good?_ 40 _As I went to ~Totnam~_ 45 _Blacke eyes, in your dark orbs do lye_ 81 _~Cloris~, now thou art fled away_ 63 _Come, my White-head, let our Muses_ 10 _Deare Love, let me this evening dye_ 1 _Down lay the Shepheards Swain_ 65 _Drink boyes, drink boyes, drink and doe not spare_ 42 _Farre in the Forrest of ~Arden~_ 73 _Fire! Fire! O, how I burn_ 97 _Fuller of wish, than hope, methinks it is_ 62 _He that a Tinker, a Tinker, a Tinker will be_ 52 _Hide, oh hide those lovely Browes_ 53 _How happy’s that Prisoner that conquers, &c._ 93 _I keep my horse, I keep my W_ 60 _I love thee for thy curled hair_ 49 _I never did hold, all that glisters is gold_ 85 _I tell you all, both great and small_ 68 _Idol of our sex! Envy of thine own!_ 55