Enough for to choak with fire and smoak
The Great Turk and the Tartar.
Our faces red, our ensignes spread,
Apollo is our Protector:
To rear up the Scout, to run in and out,
And drink up this cup of Nectar.
A CATCH.
34. Welcome, welcome again to thy wits,
This is a Holy day:
I’le have no plots nor melancholly fits,