To The Painter, To Draw Him A Picture.

Come, skilful Lupo, now, and take Thy bice, thy umber, pink, and lake; And let it be thy pencil's strife, To paint a Bridgeman to the life: Draw him as like too, as you can, An old, poor, lying, flattering man: His cheeks bepimpled, red and blue; His nose and lips of mulberry hue. Then, for an easy fancy, place A burling iron for his face: Next, make his cheeks with breath to swell, And for to speak, if possible: But do not so, for fear lest he Should by his breathing, poison thee.