FREEZLAND-FAIR,
OR THE
Icey Bear-Garden.
A new Ballad: To the Tune of Packington's Pound.
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1.
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I'LE tell ye a Tale (tho' before 'twas in Print)
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If ye make nothing on't, than the Devil is in't.
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'Tis no tale of a Tub, nor the Plotting of Treason,
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But of very strange things have bin done this strange Season.
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Ye know there's a Brook,
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No, no, I mistook,
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For I cou'd not find it, tho' long I did look:
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Yet I do not question, for all these odd freaks,
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We shall find it agen when-e're the Frost breaks.
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2.
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If ye do believe what was told us by Oates,
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Ye never agen will have use of your Boats;
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Without ye do now imploy th' Wheelers to do't;
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Ye ne're will be able to bring all about.
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He talkt of a Plot,
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Believe it, or not,
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To blow up the Thames, and to do't on the Spot;
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Then either the Docter must now be believ'd,
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Or else both the Docter and we are deceiv'd.
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3.
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No Water I see which does fairly incline
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To make me believe that he has Sprung his Mine;
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Tho' that did not do what the Docter intended,
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Yet he may for one thing he said be commended:
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He said that the Pope,
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Pray mind, 'tis a Trope,
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Wou'd send us his Bulls, by the way of the Hope;
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And tho' for the Sight we all long have bin waiting,
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I t'other day saw on the Ice a Bull-baiting.
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4.
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I hope you'll believe me, 'twas as fine a Sight,
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As ever I saw on a Queen Besses Night;
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Tho' I must confess I saw no such Dogs there,
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As us'd to attend on th' Infallible Chair.
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Yet there were some Men.
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Whom I knew agen,
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Who bawl'd as they did, when they chose Aldermen.
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And Faith it had bin a most excellent Show,
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Had there bin but some Crackers and Serpents to throw.
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5.
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Another thing pleas'd me, as I hope for Life,
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I saw of a Man that had gotten a Wife
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To see the rare Whimsies, the Woman was sick,
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So never suspected a slippery Trick:
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But when she came there,
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The Ice wou'd not bear,
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But whether 'twas his fault or hers, I can't swear;
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Yet thus far is true, had he so lost his Wife,
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He then might have pray'd for a Frost all his life.
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6.
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There's very fine Tricks, & new subject for Laughter,
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For there you may take a Coach and go by Water,
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So get a Tarpauling too, as you are Jogging,
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Tho' a Nymph t'other day for it got a good Flogging.
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There was an old Toast,
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Of Beef had a Roast,
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Which fell into th' Sellar, and fairly was lost.
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O see in old Proverbs sometimes there is truth,
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A Man is not sure of his Meat till in's Mouth.
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7.
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But I had forgot my chief bus'ness I swear,
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To give an Account of new Temple-Street Fair;
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Where most of the Students do daily resort,
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To shew the great love they had always for Sport.
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Who oft give a Token,
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I hope't may be spoken,
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To Whore in a Mask, who squeaks like a Pig a Poke in.
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To see such crak't Vessels sail is a new matter,
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Who have bin so shatter'd between Wind and Water.
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8.
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Like Babel this Fair's not built with Brick or Stone,
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Though here I believe is as great Confusion;
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Now Blankets are forc'd double Duty to pay,
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On Beds all the night, and for Houses all day;
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But there's something more,
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Some people deplore,
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Their carelesly leaving open Sellar Door,
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Which puts me in mind of Jack Presbyters trick,
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Who from Pulpit descends the like way to Old Nick.
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9.
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Come all ye young Dam'sels both swarthy and fair,
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This is the best place to put off your Crakt Ware;
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Here's Chapmen good store who too't stifly will stand,
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And scorn to put Coin that is false in your Hand:
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While you're there abiding,
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And on the Ice Gliding,
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Let 'em say what they will, 'tis but a back-sliding:
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But if ye shou'd Prove, then say I am a Prophet,
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Tho't's a Slippery trick there shall come no more of it
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10.
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There's many more Tricks, but too long to be told,
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Which are not all new, tho' there's none of 'em old.
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There's the Fellow that Printeth the Old Bailey Trial,
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Who to all the dull Printers does give a Denyal;
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Hee'll Print for a Sice,
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(For that is his price
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Your Name (that you brag may 'twas done) on the Ice.
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And Faith I do think it a very fine thing,
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So my Tale's at an end: but first, God save the KING
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