TO THE READER.
Now let the Minstrel bid adieu,
With votive lays, my friends to you:
To you, my friends, he’ll now impart
The wishes of a Minstrel’s heart;
If my poor rede be dull and flat,
Pray blame my head alone for that;
But when I act a friendly part
You must not, cannot, blame my heart.
To every Peer, if Peer there be,
To read my idle minstrelsy,
Unspotted fame, and courage true,
And boundless wealth, like bold B— —h:
To every Bard that serves his Grace,
A goodly pension or a place;
To every Gardener may there be
A Bard to sing his praise, like me;
And may the bard be favoured too,
With Gardener-friend, dear Wat, like you:
Strong head, strong liquor, and good cheer,
To every Butler, far and near,
That serves a worthy, gallant, Peer:
Long life to all; my friends adieu,
And pray with me for bold B— —h.
THE END OF THE GOBLIN GROOM.