Such a like Pack of Cards to the Park making entry,
Here and there deal an Ace, which the Jews call a
Centry,
[a Clock 'tis,
Which in bad Houfes of Boards ftand to tell what
Where they keep up tame Redcoats as Men keep up
tame Foxes,

Or Apothecaries lay up their Dogs Turds in Boxes.
Oh the Guard, &c.
Some of these are planted (though it has been their
Lucks
[Ducks;
Oft to steal Country Geefe) now to watch the King's
While fome others are fet in the fide that has
[ther footing,
To ftand Pimps to black Mafques that are oft thi-
Just as Housewives fet Cuckolds to ftir their Black
Pudding.
Oh the Guard, &c.

Wood in,

Whilft another true Trojan to fome Paffage runs, As to keep in the Debtors, fo to keep out the Duns; Or a Prentice, or his Miftrefs, with Oaths to confound, [Ground, "Till he hyes him from the Park as from forbidden 'Cause his Credit is whole, and his Wench may be found, And quits the Guard, &c.

Now it's Night, and the Patrole in Alehouse drown'd, For nought elfe but the Pot and their Brains walk the round; [does shew, Whilft like Hell the Commanders Guard-chamber There's fuch damning themselves and all else of the Crew, [his due, For tho' thefe cheat the Men, they give the Devil On the Guard, &c. Whilft a Main after Main at old Hazard they throw, And their Quarrels grow high as their Mony grows low;

Strait they threaten hard (using bad Faces for Frowns) To revenge on the Fleth, the default of the Bones. But the Blood's in their Hofe, and in Oaths all their Like the Guard, &c.

Wounds,

In the Morning they fight, just as much as they pray;
For fome one to the King does the Tidings convey
For preventing of Murder; Oh 'tis a wife way!
Tho' not one of 'em knows (as a thousand dare fay)
What belongs to a dead Man, unless in his pay
For the Guard, &c.
With their Skins they march Home no more hurt
than their Drums,

But for scratching of Faces, or biting of Thumbs; And now hey for fat Alewives, and Tradesmen grown lean;

For the Captain grown Bankrupt, recruits him again, With fending out Tickets, and turning out Men From the Guard, &c. Strait the poor Rogues cafhier'd with a Cane, and a Curfe,

Fall from wounding no Men, now to cut ev'ry Purfe : And what then? Man's a Worm; thefe we Glow

worms may name:

For as they're dark of Body, have Tails all of flame.
So tho' thofe liv'd in Oaths, yet they die with a
Pfalm.
Farewel Guard, &c.

The RAM B
AMB L E.

WH

By Captain Alexander Radcliffe.

Hile Duns were knocking at my Door,
I lay in Bed with reeking Whore,

With Back fo weak---

You'd wonder.
I rouz'd my Doe, and lac'd her Gown,
I pinn'd her Whisk, and dropt a Crown,
She pist, and then I drove her down,

Like Thunder.
From Chamber then I went to dinner,
I drank fmall Beer like mournful Sinner,
And fill I thought the Devil in her.

I fate at Muskat's in the dark,
I heard a Tradefman and a Spark,
An Attorney and a Lawyer's Clerk,
Tell Stories.

From thence I went, with muffled Face,
To the Duke's House, and took a place,
In which I fpew'd, may't please his Grace,
Or Highness;
Shou'd I be hang'd I could not chuse
But laugh at Whores that drop from Stews,
Seeing that Mistress Margʼret-----

So fine is.

When Play was done, I call'd a Link,
I heard fome paltry Pieces chink,
Within my Pockets, how d'ye think

I employ'd 'em?

Why, Sir, I went to Miftrefs Spering,
Where fome were curfing, others fwearing,
Never a Barrel better Herring,

per fidem,

Seven's the Main, 'tis Eight, God dam 'me 'Twas Six, faid I, as God shall fa' me, Now being true you cou'd not blame me

So faying, Sa' me! quoth one, what Shamaroon Is this, has begg'd an Afternoon Of's Mother, to go up and down

A playing? This was as bad to me as killing; Miftake not, Sir, faid I, I'm willing, And able both, to drop a Shilling,

Or two, Sir.

Goda'mercy then, faid Bully Hec----
With Whiskers ftern, and Cordubeck
Pinn'd up behind, his scabby Neck

To fhew, Sin

With mangled Fift he grasp'd the Box,
Giving the Table bloody Knocks,

He throws---and calls for Plague and Pox

T'affift him.

Some twenty Shillings he did catch,
H'ad like t'have made a quick dispatch,
Nor could Time's Regifter, my Watch,

Have mift him.

As Luck would have it, in came Will,
Perceiving things went very ill,
Quoth he, y'ad better go and fwill

Canary.
We fteer'd our courfe to Dragon Green,

Which is in Fleetstreet to be feen,

Where we drank Wine----not foul---but clean

Contrary.

Our Hoft, y'cleped Thomas Hammond,
Prefented flice of Bacon Gammon,
Which made us fwallow Sack as Salmon

Drink Water..

Being o'er-warm'd with laft Debauch,
I grew as drunk as any Roche,

When hot-bak'd-Wardens did approach,

Or later.

We broke the Glaffes out of hand,
As many Oaths I'd at command
As Haftings, Sabin, Sunderland,

Or Ogle.

But oh the damn'd confounded Fate

Attends on drinking Wine fo late.
drew my Sword on honest Kate
O' th' Kitchin,

Which Hammond's Wife would not endure;
I told her, tho' fhe look'd demure,
She came but lately I was fure

From Bitching

A Club there was in t'other Room,
I bolted in, being known to fome,
Such Men are not in Christendom
For jefting.

They use a plain familiar Stile,
Appearing friendly all the while,
Yet never part without a Broil

Inteftine.

The firft as Steward did appear,
A ftrange conceited Barrister,
Who on all Matters will infer

A Band 'had

on,

His Reading.

that's very plain,

A Velvet Coat, a fhining Cane,

Some Law, lefs Wit, and not a Grain

The Company were in a fit

Of Breeding.

Of talking News about Maestricht,
How that the Prince's leaving it

Was fudden,

Quoth he, (because they thould not say
That he knew lefs of this than they)
Juft fuch a Cafe I read this day

In Plowden.

An angry Captain that was there,
Could Indignation not forbear,
'Zounds, fays he, did Man e'er hear

Such Non-fense?

We talk of Sieges, Camps, and Forts,
This Fool's a keeping Country Courts,
With mufty Law and dull Reports,

Damn'd long fince,