From the cry of _Ludgate_ debters, [p. 39.] And the noise of Prisoners Fetters, From groans of them that have the Pox, And coyl of Beggars in the Stocks, From roar o’ th’ _Bridge_, and _Bedlam_ prate, And with Wives met at _Billingsgate_, From scritch-owles, and dogs night-howling, From Sailers cry at their main bowling, _Libera nos Domine_. From _Frank Wilsons_ trick of _mopping_, And her ulcered h... with _popping_, From Knights o’ th’ post, and from decoys, From _Whores_, _Bawds_, and roaring _Boys_, From a _Bulker_ in the dark, And _Hannah_ with St. _Tantlins_ Clark, From Biskets Bawds have rubb’d their gums, And from purging-Comfit plums, _Libera nos Domine_. From _Sue Prats_ Son, the fair and witty, The Lord of _Portsmouth_, sweet and pretty, From her that creeps up _Holbourne_ hill, And _Moll_ that cries, _God-dam-me_ still, From backwards-ringing of the Bells, From both the Counters and Bridewells, From blind _Robbin_ and his _Bess_, And from a Purse that’s penniless, _Libera nos Domine_. From gold-finders, and night-weddings, From _Womens_ eyes false liquid sheddings, From _Rocks_, _Sands_, and _Cannon-shot_, And from a stinking Chamber-pot, From a hundred years old sinner, [p. 40.] And Duke _Humphreys_ hungry dinner, From stinking breath of an old Aunt[,] From Parritors and Pursevants[,] _Libera nos Domine_. From a Dutchmans snick and sneeing, From a nasty Irish being[,] From a _Welchmans_ lofty bragging, And a Monsieur loves not drabbing, From begging Scotchmen and their pride, From striving ’gainst both wind and tide, From too much strong Wine and Beer, Enforcing us to domineer, _Libera nos Domine_. [Following the above comes a group of more than usually objectionable Songs, viz., _John_ and _Joan_, beginning “If you will give ear” (p. 46); “Full forty times over I have strived to win,” same title (p. 61); The Answer to it, “He is a fond Lover that doateth on scorn” (p. 62); Love’s Tenement, “If any one do want a house” (p. 64); and A New Year’s Gift, “Fair Lady, for your New Year’s Gift” (p. 81). These are all reserved for the Chamber of Horrors. _Vide ante_, p. 230.] [p. 103.] _New ~England~ described._ Among the purifidian Sect, I mean the counterfeit Elect: Zealous bankrupts, Punks devout, Preachers suspended, rabble rout, Let them sell all, and out of hand Prepare to go to _New England_, To build new _Babel_ strong and sure, Now call’d a Church unspotted pure. There Milk from Springs, like Rivers, flows, And Honey upon hawthorn grows; Hemp, Wool, and Flax, there grows on trees, The mould is fat, it cuts like cheese; All fruits and herbs spring in the fields, Tobacco it good plenty yields; And there shall be a Church most pure, Where you may find salvation sure.