And now with sleep my muse hath eased her brain I'll turn my style from prose, to verse again. That which we could not have, we freely spared, And wanting drink, most soberly we fared. We had great store of fowl (but 'twas foul way) And kindly every step entreats me stay, The clammy clay sometimes my heels would trip, One foot went forward, the other back would slip, This weary day, when I had almost past, I came unto Sir _Urian Leigh's_ at last, At _Adlington_, near _Macclesfield_ he doth dwell, Beloved, respected, and reputed well. Through his great love, my stay with him was fixed, From Thursday night, till noon on Monday next, At his own table I did daily eat, Whereat may be supposed, did want no meat, He would have given me gold or silver either, But I, with many thanks, received neither, And thus much without flattery I dare swear, He is a knight beloved far and near, First he's beloved of his God above, (Which love he loves to keep, beyond all love) Next with a wife and children he is blest, Each having God's fear planted in their breast. With fair demaines, revenue of good lands, He's fairly blessed by the Almighty's hands, And as he's happy in these outward things, So from his inward mind continual springs Fruits of devotion, deeds of piety, Good hospitable works of charity, Just in his actions, constant in his word, And one that won his honour with the sword, He's no carranto, cap'ring, carpet knight, But he knows when, and how to speak or fight, I cannot flatter him, say what I can, He's every way a complete gentleman. I write not this, for what he did to me, But what mine ears, and eyes did hear and see, Nor do I pen this to enlarge his fame But to make others imitate the same, For like a trumpet were I pleased to blow, I would his worthy worth more amply show, But I already fear have been too bold, And crave his pardon, me excused to hold. Thanks to his sons and servants every one, Both males and females all, excepting none. To bear a letter he did me require, Near _Manchester_, unto a good Esquire: His kinsman _Edmund Prestwitch_, he ordained, That I was at _Manchester_ entertained Two nights, and one day, ere we thence could pass, For men and horse, roast, boiled, and oats, and grass; This gentleman not only gave harbour, But in the morning sent me to his barber, Who laved, and shaved me, still I spared my purse, Yet sure he left me many a hair the worse. But in conclusion, when his work was ended, His glass informed, my face was much amended. And for the kindness he to me did show, God grant his customers beards faster grow, That though the time of year be dear or cheap, From fruitful faces he may mow and reap. Then came a smith, with shoes, and tooth and nail, He searched my horse's hoofs, mending what did fail,