I mounted streight on such a Steed, Did rather curb, than whipping need; And straining at the usual rate, With spur of Punch which lay in Pate, E'er long we lighted at the Gate: Where in an antient _Cedar_ House, Dwelt my new Friend a (bb) Cockerouse; Whose Fabrick tho' 'twas built of Wood, Had many Springs and Winters stood; When sturdy Oaks, and lofty Pines Were level'd with (cc) Musmillion Vines, And Plants eradicated were, By Hurricanes into the air; There with good Punch and Apple Juice, We spent our Hours without abuse; Till Midnight in her sable Vest, Persuaded Gods and Men to rest; And with a pleasing kind surprize, Indulg'd soft Slumbers to my Eyes. Fierce (dd) _AEthon_ courser of the Sun, Had half his Race exactly run; And breath'd on me a fiery Ray, Darting hot Beams the following Day, When snug in Blanket white I lay: But Heat and (ee) Chinces rais'd the Sinner, Most opportunely to his Dinner; Wild Fowl and Fish delicious Meats, As good as _Neptune's_ doxy eats, Began our Hospitable Treat; Fat Venson follow'd in the Rear, And Turkies wild (ff) Luxurious Chear: But what the Feast did most commend, Was hearty welcom from my Friend. Thus having made a noble Feast, And eat as well as pamper'd Priest, _Madera_ strong in flowing Bowls, Fill'd with extream delight our Souls; Till wearied with a purple Flood, Of generous Wine (the Giant's blood, As Poets feign) away I made, For some refreshing verdant Shade; Where musing on my Rambles strange, And Fortune which so oft did change; In midst of various Contemplations Of Fancies odd, and Meditations, I slumbered long--------------- Till hazy Night with noxious Dews Did sleep's unwholsom Fetters lose; With Vapors chil'd, and misty air, To fire-side I did repair; Near which a jolly Female Crew, Were deep engag'd at _Lanctre-Looe_; In Night-rails white, with dirty Mein, Such Sights are scarce in _England_ seen: I thought them first some Witches bent, On Black Designs in dire Convent. Till one who with affected air, Had nicely learn'd to Curse and Swear; Cry'd Dealing's lost is but a Flam, And vow'd by G----d she'd keep her _Pam_. When dealing through the board had run, They ask'd me kindly to make one; Not staying often to be bid, I sat me down as others did; We scarce had play'd a Round about, But that these _Indian_ Froes fell out. D----m you, says one, tho' now so brave, I knew you late a Four-Years Slave; What if for Planter's Wife you go, Nature designed you for the Hoe. Rot you replies the other streight, The Captain kiss'd you for his Freight; And if the Truth was known aright, And how you walk'd the Streets by night You'd blush (if one cou'd blush) for shame, Who from _Bridewell_ or _New gate_ came: From Words they fairly fell to Blows, And being loath to interpose, Or meddle in the Wars of Punk,