Epigram 7. To my honest kinsman Mr. John Cokaine

When at your Pigeon-house we meet sometime
(Though bawling Puritans call it a Crime)
And pleasant hours from serious thoughts do steal
With a fine little glass, and temperate Ale,
Talk of Sir Cokaine, and how near
He was alli'd to Will the Conquerer,
Liv'd in his reign at Henningham Castle, and
That lately there his Bow and Arrows did stand,
That there his Sword and Buckler hung, and that
(If they have scap'd these Times) th'are all there
Some fall asleep because healths are but few, (yet;
And care not for such Tales though ne're so true.
So as (through too much drink) we see sleep come
On others, it for too little falls on some.