This page has been validated.
11
Pray will you be kind?
If so, a good haven is my lot—
Your rigging I like,
Your colours then strike
And I’ll with three cheers be your pilot.
TO A BAKER.
Baking, baking, what a sloven,
Out of doors or at the oven,
With darned hose about the legs,
Like dusters hung on wooden pegs.
A numping pie, polluting sinner,
Who dips in dishes for a pinner,
Meat shaver, who politely takes,
From beef or veal or spicy cakes.
O! never, never, would I be
The wife of such a knave as thee;
And never, never, would I match
With one who’d spoil of love the batch.
TO AN AFFECTED LADY.
Ah; cease dear madam, cease to give,
To every bosom pain and sorrow;
Not that thy beauty wounds believe
Me ’tis thy vanity——good morrow!
