To Mr ROBERT WHITEHALL at the Wells at Astrop PRorogued term prolongs our meeting Accept then Robin this for greeting As much as if in Belgic Roomer We drank all Astrop this hot Summer W' have cured the Scurvy yes and a-Toe By sending Ano-waters I have seven Doctors not in Rockets That ply the Waters but in pockets But that so many Dunnes and Leeches Have drained quite my Physic breeches Ab ipso fonte not that 's cooler But in Bottles Trio-bolar We daily tope rare cure Splenetic By Diaphor and Dieuretick Under my Room that 's high you 'll say Are men of Via lactea Which every morning come to clear-um With whey which some call Lactis serum I am a water-Ratt my skill is To follow thee and Doctor Willis For if these prove not good as Spa Or Tunbridge than I must have Law When our Vicechancellor we speedily greet For these I write are my best feet And so have at thee I am bousing In bottles six that 's half a dozen Which makes us frisk like any Satyrs But not with wood Nymphs no such matters Keep with thy Gallants and their Paddyes For we want nothing not your Ladies And now as any thing of Fame So Astrop waters change their name Their Cures into their Titles go As Rivulets to the seas flow Wherefore whatsoever your dosing cup Seems to pour out at Asterop. It ends in sovereign under seal Declared the Pan-obstruction-Heale Like to a Prince in triumph seen O'er Scurvy Stone Astmas and Spleen Therefore let none my friends defeat you Potate strenuè & Valete E. G.