An Excellent BALLAD Upon a VVedding.
Sett to a New Scotch Tune, by Moses Snow, B. M.
[...] The sleeping Thames one morn I cross'd,
by two contending Charons tost
I landed & I found
By one of Neptune's jugling Tricks
enchanted Thames was Turn'd to Styx,
Lambeth th' Elysian Ground
II.
THE Dirty Linkboy of the Day,
To make himself more fresh and gay,
Had spent five Hours, and more;
Scarce had he comb'd and curl'd his Hair,
When out there comes a brighter Fair,
Eclips'd him o're and o're.
III.
The dazl'd Boy wou'd have retir'd,
But durst not because he was hir'd
To light the purblind Skies:
But all on Earth will swear and say,
They saw no other Sun that Day,
Nor Heav'n but in her Eyes.
IV.
Her starry Eyes both warm and shine,
And her dark Brows do them enshrine
Like Love's Triumphal Arch:
Their Firmament is Red and White,
Whilst the other Heav'n is but bedight
With Indigo and Starch.
V.
Her Face a Civil War had bred
Betwixt the White Rose and the Red:
Then Troops of Blushes came,
And charg'd the White with Might and main,
But stoutly were repuls'd again,
Retreating back with Shame.
VI.
Long was the War, and sharp the Fight;
It lasted dubious untill Night,
Which wou'd to th' other yield:
At last the Armies both stood still,
And left the Bridegroom at his Will,
The Pillage of the Field.
VII.
But oh such Spoils! which, to compare,
A Throne is but a rotten Chair,
And Scepters are but Sticks:
The Crown it self, 'twere but a Bonnet,
If her Possession lay upon it,
What Prince wou'd not here fix?
VIII.
Heav'ns Master-piece, Divinest frame,
That e're was spoke of yet by Fame,
Rich Nature's utmost Stage;
The Harvest of all former years,
The past's disgrace, the future's fears,
And Glory of this Age.
IX.
Thus to the Parson's Shop they trade,
And a slight Bargain there is made,
To make Him her Supreme:
The Angels pearch'd about her Light,
And Saints themselves had Appetite,
—But I will not blaspheme.
X.
The Parson did his Conscience ask
If He were fit for such a Task,
And cou'd perform his Duty?
Then straight the Man put on the Ring,
The Emblem of another Thing,
When Strength is joyn'd to Beauty.
XI.
A modest Cloud her Face invades,
And wraps it up in Sarsnet Shades,
While thus they mingle hands;
And then She was oblig'd to say
Those Bugbear Words, Love and Obey,
But meant her own Commands.
XII.
The envious Maids lookt round about
To see what One wou'd take them out,
To terminate their Pains;
For tho' they Covet, and are Cross,
Yet still they value more one Loss,
Than many thousand Gains.
XIII.
Knights of the Garter two were call'd,
Knights of the Shoe-string two install'd,
And all were bound by Oath,
No further th [...]n the Knee to pass;
But oh! the Squire of the Body was
A better Place than both.
XIV.
A tedious Feast protracts the time,
For eating now was but a crime,
And all that interpos'd;
For like two Duellists they stood,
Panting for one anothers Blood,
And longing till they clos'd.
XV.
Then came the Jovial Musick in,
And many a merry Violin,
That Life and Soul of Legs:
Th' impatient Bridegroom wou'd not stay;
Good Sir, cry'd they, what Man can play
Till he's wound up his Peggs?
XVI.
But then he dances till he reels,
For Love and Joy had wing'd his Heels,
And [...]uts the Hours to flight:
He leapt and [...]ipt, and seem'd to say,
Come Boys, Ile drive away the Day,
And shake away the Night.
XVII.
The lovely Bride with murd'ring Arts
Walks round, and brandishes her Darts,
To give the deeper Wound:
Her beauteous Fabrick with such grace
Ensnares a Heart at every pace,
And kills at each rebound.
XVII.
She glides as if there were no ground,
And slily draws her Nets around,
Her Limetwigs are her Kisses:
Then makes a Curtsie with a Glance,
And strikes each Lover in a Trance,
That Arrow never misses.
XIX.
Thus have I oft a Hobby seen,
Daring of Larks over a Green,
His fierce occasion tarry;
Dances about them as they fly,
And gives them sport before they die,
Then stoops and kills the Quarry.
XX.
Her Sweat like Honey-drops did fall,
And Stings of Beauty pierc'd us all,
Her Shape was so exact:
Of Wax she seemed fram'd alive;
But had her Gown too been a Hive,
How Bees had thither flock'd!
XXI.
Thus Envious Time prolong'd the Day,
And stretcht the Prologue to the Play,
Long stopt the sluggish Watch:
At last a Voice came from above,
Which call'd the Bridegroom, and his Love,
To consummate the Match.
XXII.
But (as if Heav'n wou'd it retard)
A Banquet comes like the Night-Guard,
Which stay'd them half the Night:
The Bridegroom then with's Men retir'd;
The Train was laying to be fir'd,
He went his Match to light.
XXIII.
When he return'd, his Hopes were crown'd,
An Angel in the Bed he found,
So glorious was her [...]ce:
Amaz'd he stopt—but then, quoth He,
Tho 'tis an Angel, 'tis a She,
And leap'd into his place.
XXIV.
Thus lay the Man with Heav'n in's Arms.
Bless'd with a thousand pleasing Charms,
In Raptures of Delight;
Reaping at once, and sowing Joys,
For Beauty's Manna never cloys,
Nor fills the Appetite.
XXV.
But what was done, sure was no more,
Than that which had been done before,
When She her self was made;
Something was lost, which none found out,
And He that had it cou'd not shew't,
Sure 'tis a Jugling trade.
LONDON, Printed for H. Playford at the Temple-Change; And Sold by E. Whitlock▪ near Stationers-Hall, 1698.