The Ladies Delight

Excerpt

AN

A D D R E S S

Gentlemen,

S Nature hath been so very Indulgent to ye, as to stock your Gardens with Trees of the largest Growth, for which Reason ye are caress'd, whilst Men of less Parts, tho' in some Things more deserving, are laugh'd at, and excluded all Company.

As all Infants, especially of the Female Sex, are much delighted with Fruit, so as their Years and other Appetites increase, no Wonder if that increases too. Both Men and Beasts have some-thing or another, for which they are esteem'd; so ye being in a particular manner Happy in this Talent, may securely laugh, while ye daily grow in the Ladies Favour, and spread your Branches over all the Kingdom: Many a hopeful Stick of Wood has been produc'd by this glorious Tree, who after they had piss'd their Estates against the Wall (as the good Housewives term it) have by the Strength of true Hibernian Prowess rais'd themselves to the Favour of some fair Virtuoso, and being by her plac'd in a HOT-BED, have been restor'd to their pristine Strength, and flourish'd again; and like true Heroes, not envying the busy World, have been content to spend the remainder of their Days in an obscure Nook of the World.

Thus, Gentlemen, and as all Poets chuse the most Worthy to patronize their Works, I humbly offer ye the following Poem, and that you may still continue as ye now are; that your Trees may ever flourish, your Green-houses be secure, nor your young Plants be ever nipt in the Bud, and that you may ever stand against all Cracks, Storms, Tempests, and Eruptions,

BOTANICUS.

THE

T r e e   of   L I F E.

THE Tree of which I fain would sing,

If the kind Muse her Aid would bring,

Is Arbor Vitæ; but in brief,

By vulgar Men call'd—Tree of Life.

First for Description then, 'tis such

As needs must captivate you much.

In Stem most streight, of lovely Size,

With Head elate this Plant doth rise;

First bare—when it doth further shoot,

A Tuft of Moss keeps warm the Root:

No Lapland Muff has such a Fur,

No Skin so soft has any Cur;

This touch'd, alone the Heart can move,

Which Ladies more than Lap-dogs love;

From this erect springs up the Stalk,

No Power can stop, or ought can baulk;

On Top an Apex crowns the Tree,

As all Mankind may plainly see;

So shines a Filbeard, when the Shell,

Half gone, displays the ruby Peel

Or like a Cherry bright and gay,

Just red'ning in the Month of May.

As other Trees bear Fruit at Top,

And they who rob 'em must climb up;

This still more rare doth upward shoot,

But at the Bottom bears its Fruit,

And they who'd reap its Virtues strong,

Need but to lay 'em all along,

Ope' wide, their Mouths, and they'll receive

The Fruit of Life, and eat, and live:

Not the fair Tree that India bears,

All over Spice both Head and Ears,

Can boast more Gifts than the Great Pow'rs

Have granted to this Tree of ours:

That in good Ale its Power boasts,

And ours has Nutmeg's fit for Toasts

And Bags by Nature planted grow,

To keep 'em from all Winds that blow....