Works

When Pimp's feet sweat, as they do often use,
There springs a soap-like lather in his shoes.

To paint the fiend, Pink would the devil see;
And so he may, if he'll be rul'd by me;
Let but Pink's face i' th' looking-glass be shown,
And Pink may paint the devil's by his own.

I know that Fortune long has wanted sight,
And therefore pardon'd when she did not right;
But yet till then it never did appear
That, as she wanted eyes, she could not hear....

In this little Urne is laid
Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid)
From whose happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet.

Prickles is waspish, and puts forth his sting
For bread, drink, butter, cheese; for everything
That Prickles buys puts Prickles out of frame;
How well his nature's fitted to his name!

Prig now drinks water, who before drank beer;
What's now the cause? we know the case is clear;
Look in Prig's purse, the chev'ril there tells you
Prig money wants, either to buy or brew.

Prigg, when he comes to houses, oft doth use,
Rather than fail, to steal from thence old shoes:
Sound or unsound be they, or rent or whole,
Prigg bears away the body and the sole.

Prue, my dearest maid, is sick,
Almost to be lunatic:
'sculapius! come and bring
Means for her recovering;
And a gallant cock shall be
Offer'd up by her to thee.

Give me a reason why men call
Punchin a dry plant-animal.
Because as plants by water grow,
Punchin by beer and ale spreads so.

Puss and her 'prentice both at drawgloves play;
That done, they kiss, and so draw out the day:
At night they draw to supper; then well fed,
They draw their clothes off both, so draw to bed.

Ralph pares his nails, his warts, his corns, and Ralph
In sev'rall tills and boxes, keeps 'em safe;
Instead of hartshorn, if he speaks the troth,
To make a lusty-jelly for his broth.

Curse not the mice, no grist of thine they eat;
But curse thy children, they consume thy wheat.

Rasp plays at nine-holes; and 'tis known he gets
Many a tester by his game and bets:
But of his gettings there's but little sign;
When one hole wastes more than he gets by nine.

Reape's eyes so raw are that, it seems, the flies
Mistake the flesh, and fly-blow both his eyes;
So that an angler, for a day's expense,
May bait his hook with maggots taken thence.

Even the shrewd and bitter,
Gnarled by the old world's greed,
Cherished the stranger softly
Seeing his utter need.
Shelter and patient hearing,
These were their gifts to him,...

Rook he sells feathers, yet he still doth cry
Fie on this pride, this female vanity.
Thus, though the Rook does rail against the sin,
He loves the gain that vanity brings in.

Roots had no money; yet he went o' the score,
For a wrought purse; can any tell wherefore?
Say, what should Roots do with a purse in print,
That had not gold nor silver to put in't?

Under a lawn, than skies more clear,
Some ruffled Roses nestling were,
And snugging there, they seem'd to lie
As in a flowery nunnery;
They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers...

Rump is a turn-broach, yet he seldom can
Steal a swoln sop out of a dripping-pan.

Rush saves his shoes in wet and snowy weather;
And fears in summer to wear out the leather;
This is strong thrift that wary Rush doth use
Summer and winter still to save his shoes.