SECOND GYPSY

WHere the Cacklers, but no Grunters, Shall uncased be for the Hunter's, Those we still must keep alive; I, and put them out to thrive In the Parks, and in the Chases, And the finer walled places; As Saint James-es, Greenwich, Tibballs, Where the Acorns plump as Chibballs, Soon shall change both kind and name, And proclaime'em the Kings game. So the act no harm may be Unto their keeper Barnabee; It will prove as good a service, As did ever Gipsy Jervice, To our Captain Charles the tall man, And a partly too of our Salmon. AS my Captain hath begun With the Sire, I take the Son, Your hand Sir. Of your fortune be secure, Love, and she, are both at your Command Sir. See what States are here at strife, Who shall tender you a Wife, A brave one; And a fitter for a man, Then is offered here, you can Not have one. She is Sister of a star, One the noblest now that are, Bright Hesper. Whom the Indians in the East, Phosphor call, and in the West, Hight Vesper. Courses even with the Sun, Does her mighty brother run, For splendour. What can to the marriage night, More then morn, and evening light Attend her? Save the promise before day, Of a little James to play Hereafter. Betwixt his Grandsiers knees, and move All the pretty ways of love, And laughter. Whilst with care you strive to please, In your giving his cares ease, And labours; And by being long the aid Of the Empire, make afraid III Neighbours. Till your self shall come to see What we wish, yet far to be Attending: For it skills not when, or where That begins, which cannot fear And ending. Since your name in peace, or wars, Nought shall bound until the stars up take you. Help me wonder, hers a book, Where I would for ever look; Never yet did Gipsy trace, Smoother lines in hands, or face: Venus here does Saturn move That you should be Queen of love; And the other Stars consent, Only Cupid not content; For though you the theft disguise, You have told him of his eyes: And to show his envy further, Here he charges you with murder; Says, although that at your sighed, He must all his troches light; Though your either cheeks discloses, Mingled baths of milk and Roses, Though your lips be banks of blisses, Where he plants, and gathers kisses; And your self the reason why, Wisest men for love may die, You will turn all hearts to tinder, And shall make the World one cinder. HOnest, and old, In those the good partly of a fortune is told; God send you your health, The rest is provided, honour, and wealth; All which you possess, Without the making of any man less, Nor needs you my warrant, enjoy it you shall, For you have a good Privy-seal for it all. His Handmaid Justice is, His Pages bounty, and grace which many prove,