And _Foster_, and _Court_, and _Davies_, and _Dee_, And _Mary_, her friend, and kind _Barbary_; And _Chapman_, and _Calow_, and _Davies_, and _Reeds_, And some very good _Lawsons_, who supply many needs; A dear friendly _Groom_, and _Napier_, and _Swindle_, A _Tomlins_, and _Marshal_, whose care does not dwindle; A much-esteem’d _Walton_, and _neice_, so sincere, And many besides, to my mind who are dear; A _Wright_, and a _Pearson_, and _Hepworth_, and _Mott_, Thus you see, my dear friends, I am not quite forgot; And _Leonard_, and _Wallace_, and _Masland_, and Pain, Who are praying, and waiting to hear me again; With _Freeman_, and _Wilkins_, and _Cornish_, and _Sherman_, Who love much to hear a real gospel sermon; And _Dibley_, and _Dudley_, and _Tungate_, and _Fleet_, And _Candler_, and _Knox_, whom I long much to meet; The very dear friends, whose names are call’d _Cross_, Whom God has sustained in every loss; And _Williams_, and _Eves_, whose hearts are kept single, And _Upstill_, and _Miles_, a _Cook_, and an _Ingle_; With a _March_, and a _Beat_, and exercis’d _Green_, Who often in sorrow and grief have me seen; And good Mrs. _Butcher_, and _Baker_, beside. Who have firmly stood for me, whatever betide; And _Fairfleet_, and _Tye_, and _Woodhouse_, and _Long_, And _Goodly_, his _brother_, and kind _Esther Young_; And _Claytons_, and _Jackson_, and _Lewis_, and _Rose_, And _Thornton_, and _Miland_, a _Burnham_, and _Hose_; And _Drewet_, and _Mars_, and _Reardon_, and _Aikin_, Who have seen me cast down, but never forsaken; And _Woodward_, and _Youngs_, and _Venning_, and _Horner_, Another friend _Brown_, and the tried Mrs. _Warner_; A _Winch_, and a _Hone_, a _Turner_, and _Pool_, The tried _Underdown_, who is in the same school; The sincere Mrs. _Grant_, and _Missen_, and _Leigman_, The Paddington _Friends_, and old mammy _Bridgman_; Good old Mrs. _Clark_, and _Thompson_, and _Cowen_, A very kind _Johnson_, and _Whitehead_, and _Owen_; The kind Mr. _Wilson_, and firm Mrs. _Baily_, And _Poulter_, and _Barns_, who esteem’d me sincerely; But ’tis time I conclude this gingling writing, Not forgetting dad _Round_, and the sweet-temper’d _Whiting_; With a hundred besides, whose names I’ve forgot, But in the last day will stand in their lot. Do not you think, in a few years time, I shall be as apt a poet, as good old Bunyan? Please to regularly regulate these irregular irregularities.