Great _Alexander_ had a Horse, A famous Beast of mighty force Yecleap'd _Buce-_ _phalus_: He was a stout and sturdy Steed, And of an exc'lent Race and Breed, But that concerns not us. I list not write the Baby praise Of Apes, or Owls, or Popingeys, Or of the Cat _Grammalkin:_ But of a true and trusty Dog, Who well could fawn, But never cog, His Praise my Pen must walk in. And _Drunkard_ he is falsely nam'd, For which that Vice he ne'er was blam'd, For he Loves not God _Bacchus_: The Kitchin he esteems more dear, Than Cellars full of Wine or Beer, Which oftentimes doth wreck us. He is no Mastiff, huge of Lim, Or Water-spaniel, that can Swim, Nor Blood-Hound nor no Setter: No Bob-tail Tyke, or Trundle-tayl, Nor can he Partridge spring or Quail, But yet he is much better. No Dainty Ladies fisting-Hound, That lives upon our _Britain_ Ground, Nor Mungrel Cur or Shogh: Should Litters or whole Kennels dare, With Honest _Drunkard_ to compare, My Pen writes, _marry fough_. The Otter-Hound, the Fox-Hound, nor The swift Foot Grey-Hound car'd he for, Nor _Cerberus_ Hell's Bandogg; His Service proves them Curs and Tikes, And his Renown a Terror strikes, In Water-Dog and Land-Dog. 'Gainst brave _Buquoy_ or stout _Dampiere_, He durst have Bark'd without Fear, Or 'gainst the hot Count _Tilly_: At _Bergen_ Leaguer and _Bredha_, Against the Noble _Spinola_, He shew'd himself not silly. He serv'd his Master at commands, In the most Warlike _Netherlands_, In _Holland_, _Zeeland_, _Brabant_: He to him still was true and just, And if his fare were but a Crust, He patiently would knab on't. He durst t have stood Stern _Ajax_ Frown, When Wise _Ulysses_ talk'd him down In grave _Diebus_ _illis_; When he by cunning prating won The Armour from fierce Tellamon, That 'longed to _Achilles_. Brave _Drunkard_, oft on God's dear Ground, Took such poor Lodging as he found, In Town, Field, Camp or Cottage; His Bed but cold, his Dyet thin, He oft in that poor case was in, To want both Meat and Pottage. Two rows of Teeth for Arms he bore, Which in his Mouth he always wore, Which serv'd to fight and feed too: His grumbling for his Drum did pass, And barking (lowd) his Ordnance was, Which help'd in time of need too.