Classic Poem

To H.T. into Nor[folk]

My Noble Holl
Nor Kate nor Doll
Nor Gibb, nor Hodges Mary
Nor Ruth nor Bess
I shall express
Nor Jone looks to the Dairy.

But my desire
Is set on fire
To tell Thee some good story
Yet it shall not
Speak Coriot
Nor Ambeling Jhon Dory.

There is a Knight
Whose spurrs shine bright
And thus I doe Embrace him
When thither I goe
Though't be noe snow
You redely may Trace him.

'Tis not Ban Bon
Nor Watt, but Jhon
Though Cunny oft awaks him
He seldom Knocks
Until the Fox
Catch him and speachles makes him.

Then out He's led
Unto some bed
Or couch neer to the same
Where again up start
He cries sweet hart
I fayth I am very lame.

He came t'afford
His owld Land Lord
His Company not Rent ho
Til as I sayd
He was well payd
And a good lodging stent to.

Whence the next day
He slips away
As silent as the swimmers
For being so Kind
He'had utterd's mind
Before, after some Brimmers.

His dry soule up
Calls for a Cup
Then mounts his steed noe Trotter
And Gallops home
Wher fittly come
He may teach Docter Potter.