, lay aside your Grief,
The Devil says: I bring Relief.
Relief, says : pray let me crave
Your Name, Sir. — . — Sir, your Slave:
I did not look upon your Feet:
You'll pardon Me: — Ay, now I see't:
And pray, Sir, when came You from Hell?
Our Friends there, did You leave Them well?
All well: but pr'ythee, honest ,
(Says ) leave your Complaisance:
The Truth is this: I cannot stay
Flaring in Sun-shine all the Day:
For, , We Hellish Sprites,
Love more the Fresco of the Nights;
And oft'ner our Receipts convey
In Dreams, than any other Way.
I tell You therefore as a Friend,
E'er Morning dawns, your Fears shall end:
Go then this Ev'ning, Master ,
Lay down your Fowls, and broach your Barrel;
Let Friends and Wine dissolve your Care;
Whilst I the great Receipt prepare:
To Night I'll bring it, by my Faith;
Believe for once what  saith.