[17.] Several Gentlemen were at dinner together, and one of them was a Parson; among the Dishes one was a Pig, but 'twas very lean; Then they concluded that it was only fit for the Parson, being a spiritual Pig, for it had no flesh upon it. _An Invitation to Lubberland._ with An Account of the great Plenty of that Fruitful Country. There's all sorts of Fowl and Fish, with Wine and store of Brandy, Ye have there what your Hearts can wish, the Hills are Sugar Candy. The Tune of _Billy and Molly_ Or, The Journey-man Shoe maker This may be printed R. P.[F. 25] There is a ship we understand [19.] now riding in the river, Tis newly come from _Lubberland_ the like I think was never; You that a lazy life do love, I'd have you now go over, They say land is not above two thousand leagues from Dover. [Illustration: Hey for _Lubberland_] The Captain and the Master too, do's give us this relation, And so do's all the whole ships crew, concerning this strange nation. The streets are pav'd with pudding-pies nay powder'd[F. 26] beef and bacon, They say they scorn to tell you lies, who thinks it is mistaken. The king of knaves and queen of sluts reign there in peace and quiet; You need not fear to starve your guts, there is such store of diet: There may you live free from all care, like hogs set up a fatning, The garments which the people wear is silver, silk and sattin. The lofty buildings of this place for many years have lasted, With nutmegs, pepper, cloves and mace, the walls are roughly casted, In curious hasty-pudding boil'd, and most ingenious Carving. Likewise they are with pancakes ty'd, sure, here's no fear of starving. The Captain says, in every Town hot roasted pigs will meet ye, They in the streets run up and down, still crying out, _come eat me_: Likewise he says, at every feast the very fowls and fishes, Nay, from the biggest to the least, comes tumbling to the dishes. The rivers run with claret fine, the brooks with rich Canary, The ponds with other sorts of wine, to make your hearts full merry: Nay, more than this, you may behold the fountains flow with Brandy, The rocks are like refined gold, the hills are sugar candy. Rosewater is the rain they have, which comes in pleasant showers, All places are adorned brave with sweet and fragrant flowers: Hot Custards grows on e'ery tree each ditch affords rich jellies Now, if you will be rul'd by me, go there, and fill your bellies. There's nothing there but holy-days, with musick out of measure; Who can forbear to speak the praise of such a land of pleasure? There you may lead a lazy life, free from all kinds of labour, And he that is without a wife, may borrow of his neighbour.