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I'M amused at the signs,
As I pass through the town,
To see the odd mixture,
A Magpie and Crown,
British Apollo, 1707.
THE TABARD INN.
BEFELLE, that, in that seson on a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,
The chambres and the stables weren wide,
And shortly, whan the sonne was gon to reste, So hadde I spoken with hem everich on, That I was of hir felawship anon, And made forword erly for to rise, To take oure way ther as I you devise.
LINES ON THE MERMAID TAVERN.
NOULS of poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
I have heard that on a day
Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
THE SUN, THE DOG, THE TRIPLE TUN.
ODE TO BEN JONSON.
Say how or when
The Dog, the Triple Tun:
As made us nobly wild, not mad;
Or come again,
Or send to us
And having once brought to an end
That precious stock, the store
Of such a wit the world should have no more.
WHAT things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame,
As if that every one from whence they came
Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest,
And had resolved to live a fool the rest
For three days past, - wit that might warrant be For the whole city to talk foolishly
Till that were cancelled; and when that was gone, We left an air behind us, which alone
Was able to make the two next companies
(Right witty, though but downright fools) more wise.
THE RED LION, DRURY LANE.
WHERE the Red Lion, staring o'er the way, Invites each passing stranger that can pay; Where Calvert's butt and Parson's black champagne Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury Lane; There in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug, The Muse found Scroggen stretched beneath a rug. Oliver Goldsmith.
WILL WATERPROOF'S LYRICAL MONOLOGUE.
PLUMP head-waiter at The Cock, To which I most resort, How goes the time?
T is five o'clock.
Go fetch a pint of port:
But let it not be such as that
You set before chance-comers,
No vain libation to the Muse,
But may she still be kind,
And whisper lovely words, and use
To make me write my random rhymes,
Nor add and alter, many times,
I pledge her, and she comes and dips
And lays it thrice upon my lips,