The Wandering Pilgrim

WILL Piggot must to Coxwould go.
To live, alas ! in want,
Unless Sir Thomas say No, no,
Th' Allowance is too scant.

The gracious Knight full well does weet,
Ten farthings ne'er will do,
To keep a man each day in meat,
Some bread to meat is due.

A Rechabite poor Will must live.
And drink of Adam's ale,
Pure-Element, no life can give,
Or mortal soul regale.

Spare diet, and spring-water clear.
Physicians hold are good ;
Who diet's thus need never fear,
A fever in the blood.

Gra'mercy, Sirs, y'are in the right.
Prescriptions All can sell.
But he that does not eat can't sh
Or piss if good drink fail.

But pass — The Æsculapian-Crew,
Who eat and quaff the best.
They seldom miss to bake and brew,
Or lin to break their fast.

Could Yorkshire-Tyke but do the same.
Than He like Them might thrive,
But Fortune, Fortune, cruel Dame,
To starve Thou do'st Him drive.

In Will's Old master's plenteous days,
His mem'ry e'er be blest ;
What need of speaking in his praise,
His goodness stands confest.

At His fam'd gate stood Charity,
In lovely sweet array,
Ceres, and Hospitality,
Dwelt there both night and day.

But to conclude, and be concise,
Truth must Will's voucher be,
Truth never yet went in disguise.
For naked still is She.

There is but One, but One alone.
Can set the Pilgrim free,
And make him cease to pine and moan,
O ! Frankland it is Thee.

O ! save him from a dreary way.
To Coxwould he must hye.
Bereft of thee he wends astray,
At Coxwould he must dye.

O ! let him in thy hall but stand,
And wear a porter's gown.
Duteous to what Thou may'st command.
Thus William's wishes crown.