64 Miscellaneous Poe m s.'.

And thus they were accorded, thus they sworeTo wait the Time, as 1 have said before.

And now, when Nicholas had wore awayThe pleasant Time in harmless am’rous Play,

To his melodious Psaltery he flew,

Play’d Tunes of Love, by which his Passion grew,Then printed on her Lips a dear Adieu.

It happen’d thus, I cannot rightly tell,

If it on Easter, or on Whttson fell;

That on a Holiday, this modest DameTo Church with other honest,Neighbours came,

In a good Fit, to hear the Parson preachWhat the divine Apostles us’d to teach.

Bright was her Forehead, and no Summer’s Day.Shone half so clear, so tempting, and so gay.

Now to this Parilh did a Clerk belong,

Who many a Time had rais’d a holy Song.

His Name was Ahsalov , a silly Man,

Who curl’d his Hair, which strutted like a Fan,

And from his jolly, pert, and empty Head,,

In Golden Ringlets on his Shoulders spread.

His Face was red, his Eyes as grey as Goose,

With St. Paul's Windows figur’a on his Shoes.

Full properly he walk’d, in Scarlet Hose ;

But light and Silver-colour’d were his Cloaths,.

And Surplice white as Blossoms on the Rose.

Thick Poynts and Tassels did the Coxcomb please,And fetoufly they dangled on his Knees.

He could let Blood, and shave your Beard and Head,But a meer Barber-Surgeon by his Trade.

Nay, he could write and read, and that is moreThan Twenty Parish -Clerks could do before.

Nay, he could fill a Bond, and learnt from France „

In thirty Motions how to trip and dance; ,

Could frisk and toss his twirling Legs in Air, ,

Nice were his Feet, and trod it to a Hair.