ROGERs Delight;
OR,
The West Country Christning and Gossiping.
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WHen Sol had left his weary Teams,
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and turnd his Steeds a Grazing,
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Ten Fathom deep in Neptunes Streams,
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he his Thetis lay Embracing;
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The Stars tript in the Firmament,
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like School-Boys on a Play-day;
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The Country Lasses a Mumming went,
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like Milk maids on a May-day.
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Then apace grew on the Grey-eyd Morn,
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when the herds-mans Flocks were Low-ing,
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And among the Poultry in the Barn,
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the Plow-Mans Cocks were Crowing:
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Whilst Roger he Dreamt of Golden Joys,
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was wakd by a Revel-Rout, Sir,
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But Cicely she tells him he needs must rise,
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for his Juggy was crying out Sir.
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Not half so merry the Cup went round,
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at the Tapping of good Ale Firkin,
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Then Roger his Hose and Shoes had found
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and buttond his Leather Jerkin;
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Grey Mare was Saddl'd with wondrous speed,
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with Pillion and Buttockd aright, Sir,
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And for an old Midwife away he rode,
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to bring the poor Kid to light, Sir,
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Oh! good Mother I pray get up,
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for the Fruits of my Labour its now come,
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And there it lyes struggling in Juggys Womb,
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But it cannot get out till you come,
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Ill help her quoth the old Hag neer doubt
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thy Juggy shall be well again Boy,
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And Ise warrant that Ise get the Kid out,
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as well as thou [gott'st it in Boy.]
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Grey Mare they mount, and away they ride,
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no whip nor Spur was wanting:
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As soon as the old Hag enterd the Room,
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then Hoop cryd out the Bantling:
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A Female Chit, so small it was born,
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you might put it into a Flaggon,
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And it must be Christend that very Morn
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for fear it should die a Pagan.
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Then Robin and Doll, with constant Kate
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were Gossips for this great Christning,
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And the good Wives did merrily prate,
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Whilst Juggy in bed lay listning:
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They talkd of this, and they talkd of that
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Of Chatting they were not sparing,
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Some said it was so small a Brat,
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Twas hardly worth the rearing.
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Then Roger he strutted about the Hall,
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As great as the Prince of Condey;
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What if her Prats they are but small,
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They will be bigger one Day:
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What if her Legs and Thighs lie close,
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As little as any Spider,
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You need not fear, eer seventeen Years,
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Shell lig them a little wider:
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For then shell be a Woman grown,
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Ill lay Five Pounds im Money,
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And have a little one of her own,
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As well as Jug my Honey:
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These will be joyful Days to see,
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Ill study for to advance her,
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That Juggy may a Granny be,
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Then I shall be a Grandsire.
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Then Nappy Ale went fairly round,
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as brown as any Berry,
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With which the good wives being crownd
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they all were Brisk and Merry,
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Whilst Roger he turnd Cups over his Thumb,
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to every honest Neighbour,
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Saying, A Twelve Month hence pray come,
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once more to my Juggys Labour.
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