Upon Mr BOBARD'S Yew-men of the Guards to the PHYSICK GARDEN:
To the Tune of The Counter-Scuffle.
NO more let Statues Stone, or Brass,
(Figures of half a Horse, half Ass,
Or Ana Bull and Man, which was a Centaure:)
Nor those two Gyants, dreadful sight,
Which in Guild-hall stand grimme, and fright
The City lads work day and night by Indenture:
Nor yet the Highgate-
Hercules,
In Garden of the good Marquess,
Compare with
Bobard, or with these High-Germen.
Germen, said I? no, Greenlanders;
Greener then any Whales, or Beares,
Or those Green-men on Shews of Mayors do scare men
With Weels of fire, and filthy smoak,
Which would a Chimney-sweeper choak,
And are as black as
Pluto's Cloak i'th' Ballad.
But these are Sons of
Ihon-a-Greene,[?]
As green as Leek was ever seen,
Or any herbs that are pick'd clean for Sallat.
'Tis true, that
Garragantua
(A Gyant
Rablais made, they say)
When
Physiick-books[?], could not get Whey To's belly.
That Gyant and his hollow tooth,
Got credit with Ladies, forsooth;
But that is fiction, these are truth, I tell ye.
Let such phantistick things be dumb,
Rawhead and Bloody bones, Tom Thumb,
All Monsters in submission come, and wonder
At these two Gyants, which do grow,
And are alive, as we do know,
And fear nor heat, not storms, nor snow, nor thunder.
'Tis to be fear'd they'l grow so high,
Their heads will reach unto the skie,
I'le promise you, they'r very nigh at present:
But
Iacob with his Garden-sheeres,
For fear of Heaven-Combaters,
Will not permit their heads nor eares too crescent.
They stand as stout as Troopers Moss,
Ivy-Hinksey,
or Bednall-cross,
Or
Adam, after his sweet loss in Fig-leaves.
Magnetick Trees, which draw the Town,
The Countrey and the learned Gown,
So many go not up and down where
Trigg lives.
What names to give them, is my work;
Shall they be Saracen, or Turk?
Those Knights that lie in Templars Kirk are Noddies
To these tall men of mighty race,
With Murrian Head, and Murrian Face;
Let's call 'um as the Rump late was,
Custodes:
A name
Old Nick bestow'd on them,
Builders of
New Iesusalem,
Which broke the Royal Diadem, and Maces;
And ruin'd all in a mad storm,
(Which they miscalled to reform)
But took our Goods, our Wine, our Corn, and Places.
Honest
Custodes these shall be,
Who keep your Plants in bravery,
The Cherry, and the Codling-tree for Ladies,
And Lords, and Knights, and quibling Squires,
W' have all things here to their desires,
To please the Girles, the Boyes, their Sires, and Babies.
They say, a man reverst's a Tree,
I never till this hour did see
Men upright Trees,
Ex traduce, and growing,
With mighty Thighes, and Armes, and Golls,
And Noses redder then old Noll's,
Faces as broad as Moon, or Soll's down going.
These Gyants are for cleanliness,
They have, I'le swear, their Landresses;
Whether their names be
Nan or
Bess, they have it;
These green Arboreans necks about,
No filthy dirty nasty clout,
But solem dress of Soldat stout, call'd Crevat.
One's Armes's a Club, the other Bill,
They stand in posture for to kill,
Fright Men and Doggs, or any
Bilbo-bravo's[?]:
No Quakers hither dare to come,
Fanaticks that sing all and some,
Nor any thing with Fife and Drum, t' inslave us.
They look as if they'd eat you up,
Yet never breakfast, dine, or sup,
Nor yet of water drink a cup, these tall men▪
Yet whensoe're I sup or dine,
(Rejoice in Venison and good Wine)
God grant they may be guests of mine of all men,
I should proceed i'th' Historie,
That's to describe them
Cap-a-pe,
(Alcides his discoverie to's
Doxies[?],
As his black Rump, and Lions Skin,
Which Monsters he confounded in,
In numbers twelve) which I have seen in Boxes
At the Red Bull, full many a time;
But these Green Men, whatsoe're's the crime,
Do not grow downward, but up climbe; for
Bobard,
Nor young
Iacob, hath made them Feet,
Nor Ped'stals for to stand as yet,
Nor Shoes of Velvet green can get from shop-board.
Which is the cause this Song concludes,
And spoiles the Sport, and interludes,
The pleasure of the Multitudes: These Saphicks▪
For want of Feet, cann't reherse
No more in merry dancing Verse;
Our want of Subject
spoiles[?] Commerce and Traffique.