ON MR THOMAS KILLIGREW'S RETURN FROM VENICE, AND MR WILLIAM MURREY'S FROM SCOTLAND.

1 Our resident Tom, From Venice is come, And hath left the statesman behind him; Talks at the same pitch, Is as wise, is as rich; And just where you left him, you find him.

2 But who says he was not A man of much plot, May repent that false accusation; Having plotted and penn'd Six plays, to attend The farce of his negotiation.

3 Before you were told How Satan[1] the old Came here with a beard to his middle; Though he changed face and name, Old Will was the same, At the noise of a can and a fiddle.

4 These statesmen, you believe, Send straight for the shrieve, For he is one too, or would be; But he drinks no wine, Which is a shrewd sign That all's not so well as it should be.

5 These three, when they drink, How little do they think Of banishment, debts, or dying? Not old with their years, Nor cold with their fears; But their angry stars still defying.

6 Mirth makes them not mad, Nor sobriety sad; But of that they are seldom in danger; At Paris, at Rome, At the Hague, they're at home; The good fellow is no where a stranger.

[1] 'Satan': Mr. W. Murrey.