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<DATE>2008-11-02</DATE>
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<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080823.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<STC T="W">C595</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884933</BIBNO>
<VID>182700</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
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<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 12 -->
<HEAD>THE CAR-MAN'S POEM: OR, ADVICE to a Ne&s;t of Scriblers.</HEAD>
<L>CAR-men turn Poets now, why may not I?</L>
<L>Then Hor&s;e, and Cart, and Whip, &s;tand you three by:</L>
<L>Nay, but I lack my Whip to la&s;h tho&s;e Cattel,</L>
<L>That by their Scribling bid the Kingdom Battel.</L>
<L>Wou'd I cou'd la&s;h you with &s;uch mighty force,</L>
<L>As I have us'd to la&s;h my drudging Hor&s;e.</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 span"> the dull Satyrs of this envious Age,</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 span">t puts my Fancy in &s;o great a rage;</L>
<L><UNCLEAR>Thye</UNCLEAR> &s;warm in ev'ry Street, in ev'ry Shop,</L>
<L>They are the Froth of ev'ry idle Fop.</L>
<L>He that has nought to do, takes Pen and Ink,</L>
<L>Calls for &s;ome Paper, and a Pot of Drink,</L>
<L>And then the Maggot works, and Noddle rings,</L>
<L>And they'l not &s;pare the be&s;t of <HI>Briti&s;h</HI> Kings:</L>
<L>Malice, and Pride, and Drink are all agreed,</L>
<L>Then drive on, Car-man: but none cries, God &s;peed.</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 letter">heir wicked Wit's on wheels, but why &s;o fa&s;t?</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1+ letters">m afraid you'll pay for this at la&s;t:</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 letter">or head-&s;trong Fancy mu&s;t be curb'd e're long,</L>
<L>The Judge will make you &s;ing another Song,</L>
<L>King's a puny thing in your conceit;</L>
<L>And all by rea&s;on of a &s;nallow Pate:</L>
<L>Duke's a Trifle, and a Queen's a Toy;</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="2+ letters">'s death to you to &s;ing out <HI>Viv' le Roy.</HI></L>
<L>And a grave Bi&s;hop, or a learned Dean,</L>
<L>You do abhor as much as King and Queen:</L>
<L>Iudges are next to nothing in your eye.</L>
<L>So boldly from all Government you fly,</L>
<L>That with your dirty, frothy, hair-brain'd Pen,</L>
<L>You la&s;h our Kings, even like our Common men,</L>
<L><HI>Touch not the Lords Anointed,</HI> it is &s;aid;</L>
<L>But when with Ale and Beer you're muddy made,</L>
<L>When with a little Drink your heads are warm,</L>
<L>You <HI>touch the King,</HI> and <HI>do his Prophets harm:</HI></L>
<L>You rail, abu&s;e, contemn, de&s;pi&s;e and jeer,</L>
<L>You la&s;h them like your Hor&s;es, without fear:</L>
<L>It matters not for Sence, be they but Rhimes,</L>
<L>Then there is hopes they'l &s;uit with the&s;e &s;ad Times.</L>
<L>Away they run to <HI>Smith,</HI> and he corrects them;</L>
<L>That's a mi&s;take, he Prints, and he Protects them:</L>
<L>From Friend to Friend they march about the Street,</L>
<L>And ev'ry Baptiz'd Brother's glad to fee't:</L>
<L>Oh how they &s;hrug their Elbows with delight,</L>
<L>To &s;ee &s;uch dang'rous things appear in &s;ight.</L>
<L>He's wi&s;e that's bold, the fitte&s;t man for th' Times,</L>
<L>That dare pre&s;ume to write the wor&s;t of Rhimes:</L>
<L>Hang Sence, that's out of fa&s;hion, &s;o is Rea&s;on;</L>
<L>Come let us &s;ee you write Sedition, Trea&s;on,</L>
<L>Move for a Commonwealth, cry down the King,</L>
<L>Another Royal Head to th' Block let's bring;</L>
<L>Rail at the Bi&s;hops, and the Common-Prayer,</L>
<L>Abu&s;e the Papi&s;ts, this is pa&s;t compare:</L>
<L>Let us beat down all the&s;e too Loyal Elves,</L>
<L>Then we may hope we &s;hall &s;et up our &s;elves.</L>
<L>This is the language of the Baptiz'd Bea&s;t,</L>
<L>The heart of ev'ry <HI>Presbyterian</HI> Prie&s;t.</L>
<L>Did they but fear a God, they'd love a King,</L>
<L>They &s;eldom Harp on &s;uch a plea&s;ant String:</L>
<L>They make long Pray'rs your Hou&s;es to devour,</L>
<L>They'l pray for half a day, and preach an hour;</L>
<L>They'l Fa&s;t in earne&s;t; turn up th' white o'th' eyes,</L>
<L>Ev'n like a Paraketto to the Skies:</L>
<L>They'l walk demurely, chatter like a Saint,</L>
<L>Their language is &s;o zealous, &s;mooth and quaint,</L>
<L>You wou'd not think that they cou'd act ought ill,</L>
<L>Much le&s;s that they their Sov'reign Lord wou'd kill.</L>
<L>Give them but pow'r, you'l find them greater Cheaters,</L>
<L>Then old <HI>Nol Cromwell,</HI> or his Chaplain <HI>Peters.</HI></L>
<L>What has our Law no limits for our words?</L>
<L>And &s;hall our Pens cut like two-edged Swords,</L>
<L>And none regard them? &s;hall our Libels &s;warm,</L>
<L>And will no Judge take notice of the harm?</L>
<L>Seditious Libels &s;urely have a Charm,</L>
<L>There's not one Judge that dare put forth his arm.</L>
<L>Then let our Pamphlets &s;warm about the City,</L>
<L>Be deaf and do not &s;hew Conformi&s;ts pity;</L>
<L>Satyr them unto death, the day's our own,</L>
<L>Our Judges now we find are weary grown:</L>
<L>Spare neither King nor Subject, let all &s;hare</L>
<L>Alike that love the Ma&s;s and Common-Prayer:</L>
<L>Come, drive on, Car-man, &s;et thy brains to work,</L>
<L>And write as if it were again&s;t the <HI>Turk.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Puddle-dock</HI> Coach-man, hold thy Dung-Cart Pen,</L>
<L>Spurn not again&s;t &s;uch great and powerful men;</L>
<L>They do but let you run to your wits end,</L>
<L>Now you mu&s;t pay for what you wrote, my Friend.</L>
<L>Thou that did&s;t &s;in again&s;t both Judge and King,</L>
<L>And &s;tole the Honey, now mu&s;t feel the Sting:</L>
<L>Thy Libels now are all upon the File,</L>
<L>That &s;warm like Hornets in a plea&s;ing I&s;le.</L>
<L><HI>Imprimis,</HI> An&s;wer thy <HI>Tom Ticklefoot,</HI></L>
<L>I fear that that will put thee hardly to't:</L>
<L><HI>Item,</HI> remember thy late <HI>New-years-Gift,</HI></L>
<L>Thy Neek thou from this Noo&s;e can&s;t no way &s;hift,</L>
<L>Unle&s;s it from a twi&s;ted Halter be,</L>
<L>Unto a Wooden Noo&s;e call'd Pillory:</L>
<L>And thy late <HI>Satyr</HI> will not be forgotten,</L>
<L>When <HI>Smith</HI> and <HI>Anvil</HI> are decay'd and rotten.</L>
<L>Judgment has Leaden heels, but without doubt</L>
<L>At the long run 'twill find the Rabble out:</L>
<L>Then woe be to you, better you were choak'd,</L>
<L>Then deal with Judges that you have provok'd;</L>
<L>My life for yours they'l &s;tick upon your Skirts,</L>
<L>And pay you home for all your Jeers and Flirts:</L>
<L>You and your hireling Scriblers will repent,</L>
<L>That they their Time, and you your Money &s;pent.</L>
<L>One witty <HI>Dolben,</HI> and a &s;harp <HI>Recorder,</HI></L>
<L>Will timely bring you all to better order:</L>
<L>A Pillory will tell us you were Rogues,</L>
<L>To write again&s;t a Judge &s;o ju&s;t as <HI>Scroggs,</HI></L>
<L>Who&s;e Worth and Judgment, Wit and Ju&s;tice flies</L>
<L>With far more Fame, thanks to your Scribling Lies.</L>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
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