Page:Madagascar, with other poems - Davenant (1638).djvu/49

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27

A Journey into Worcestershire.

Three, who (if kinder Destinies shall please)May all dye rich, though they love Wit, and ease;And I, whom some odde hum'rous Planet bidTo register the doughty acts they did,Tooke horse; leaving ith' Town, ill Playes, sowre Wine,Fierce Serjeants and the plague; besides of mineAn Ethnick Taylor too, that was farre worseThan these, or what just Heaven did ever curse.Scarce was the busie Citie left behind,But from the South arose a busier Winde;Which sent us so much raine, each man did wish,His hands and leggs, were Finnes, his Horse, a Fish.Dull as a thick-skull'd-Iustice, drunke with Sloth;Or Alderman (farre gone in Capon Broth)

Wee

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