From Keeping Our Christmas, Not Far From Tom. Jolly's. Canto Ii. Poem by Richard Ames

Wisht morning arriv'd, where Men Ply for their Fares,
We took Oars, and were Landed at Parliament-Stairs;
Having finisht our Business in Westminster-Hall,
Where the Lawyers do Billinsgate loudly out-baul.

I.

At the Bufflers-head first we propounded the question,
But the Master o'th' House was such a mo—dest one;
He believ'd that there was not a Drop in the Nation,
For 'twas all on't drunk up at the Last Coronation.

II.

At the Fountain then looking, we lik't not the Sign,
For Hedg-Taverns have commonly none but Hedg-Wine.

III.

We'd have call'd at the Bell, but were told by a Scout,
That the Clapper for several Months has been out.

IV.

As we entred the Sun with a grave Spanish pace,
Met a Man in the Entry was Scorcht in the Face;
But we willing to learn Wit by other Mens Harms,
Left the House, and directly went to the King's-Arms.

V.

Who tho they pretended to sell Red good as can be,
I'de rather at any time drink Cherry-Brandy.

VI.

Where ever the Swans may have done in the City,
The Swan here in King-street had sung her last Ditty.

VII.

Then passing along to the sign of St. Andrew,
And expecting to find Wine as good as e're Man Drew;
But we found that our hopes were all as much mistaken,
As his that took Sturgeon for Gammon of Bacon.

VIII.

Then passing White-hall, we first came to the Rummer,
Which like a Town Jilt receives every new comer,
But they were so busie in Dressing great Dinners,
That they then had no Rome for two thirsty poor Sinners.

IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

At the Garter my Friend call'd, I at the King's-head,
And we both at the Crown, and three Tuns thought to speed,
Nor omitted to call at the sign Sandy-Pry'd;
But alas! how some people in Lying will Glory,
For Vintners like Gypsyes hang all in a Story.
And when we demanded a Glass of Puntack,
Swore they had not a Drop if their Souls lay at stake.

XIV.

We had call'd at the Buffler, but that we both thought,
Our Friends Wine and his Faith were both equally naught.

XV.

At the Lyon the Master was thumping the Back
Of a Drawer, who at Bar by mistake cry'd Puntack;
If naming the word is so Criminal thought,
The Vintners their Hogs t' a fine Market have brought

XVI.

Had we drank at the Chequer, no Physick could bar us
From Death, for how little, alas! 'twould avail us,
To drink Wine in a House that looks so like an Ale-house?

XVII. XVIII. XIX.

So pale was the Rose, the Long-Dog out of Breath,
And Duck-Wing had crow'd himself almost to Death;
That had we at either of these askt for Claret,
VVithout question our wishes had quickly miscarried.

XX.

At the Sun we were loath for to moisten our Lips,
For we plainly perceiv'd she was then in Eclipse.

XXI.

At the sides of One Tun my Friend knockt for a Sign,
But a hollow Voice answer'd, Puntack's not within.

XXII.

At the Bear when for Claret we askt the Drawcansir.
Like the Sign he was Muzled, and gave us no Answer.

XXIII.

VVhen at the Half moon we observ'd the gay Sign,
VVe expected to find no good Claret within;
If the Wine be but good, let the Sign be a Rush,
For the Learned agree that good VVine needs no Bush.

XXIV.

The Poets who with their Inventions so rack us,
Yet assure us the Goat was accquainted with Bacchus;
Yet the Goat in Strand had not Claret a Drop,
For last Summer the Bacchinals drank it all up.

XXV.

At Po-----ls we thought some old Claret to try,
But, alas! of that Liquor the Fountain was dry;
For since he so lately was fin'd fifty Pound,
For fetching up Bottles from Cellar profound;
VVhen oblig'd by the Law to Sell VVine in a Quart,
VVe found him so fretful, so peevish and short;
But 'twixt Humour and Purse is a Sympathy found,
Our Humour's not well if our Purse is unsound.

XXVI.

How briskly the Feathers may look; yet we guest
Their Claret (if any) was none of the best.

XXVII.

The Vine in the Strand, we observ'd was new Planted,
And to find no good Claret there, took it for granted.

XXVIII.

The Doors of the Swan, some by order had clos'd 'em,
E're since Abraham H&wblank;lls went to Abraham's Bosom.

XXIX.

When for Claret at Ca&wblank;ters, who lives at the Mitre,
VVe askt, she admir'd we came there for to fright her,
For she had not a Drop, or may Man ne're Delight her.

XXX.

When at the Five Belts we would Ring a short Peal,
We perceiv'd by some token all things were not well;
'Twould grieve a Man thence to receive a sad Fate,
For if I am Poyson'd it shall be in State.

XXXI.

At La-------fords the Grey-hound, to call we forbear it,
He being better accquainted with Punch than with Claret.

XXXII.

At the White-Horse, so fam'd for the Consults and Plots,
By Jesuits held, as was sworn by T. Otes,
We call'd but he told us he had not a Tast,
For 'twas all on't drunk up at the Dorsetshire Feast.

XXXIII.

VVhen we stept in at Rof&wblank;s we heard such distraction,
Of Singing and Gaming, and things sold by Auction,
That the Tavern resembled a Wake or a Fair,
And hating all noises did soon disappear.

XXXIV.

The Ship who of late Sprung a Leak in the Main,
Is new Corkt, Trim'd and Lancht in the Ocean agen;
We hawld her and askt if she'd Claret Aboard,
But the Captain and Ships Crew would not answer a word.

XXXV.

The last Tavern we came to, was that of the Rose;
At the Door of which stood such a parcel of Beau's,
VVho in Eating and Drinking great Criticks commence,
And are Judges of every thing else but of Sense,
VVhen we saw 'em makes Faces, and heard one or two Swear,
That the VVine was the Devil they lately drank there;
VVe rely'd on their word, and ne're stept o're the Groundsil,
But thought they spoke truth like General Council.
Two days in this Search were away vainly thrown,
And we both of us thinking to find none in Town;
Then agreed with a nemine contradicente,
That since Drinks of our English growth was so plenty;
VVe all their Brew'd Wines would not value a Rush,
Nor shorten our days by respect to a Bush.

FINIS