7
That thought's like to murder me, Doctor Monro.
The boys cost you many a penny and shilling;
You breed'them with pleasure, with trouble, and woes
But one turns a rake, and another a villain.—
My heart could not bear it, dear Doctor Monro.
The lasses are comely, and dear to your bosom;
But virtue and beauty has many a foe!
O think what may happen, just nipt in their blossom!—
Ah! merciful Heaven! cease, Doctor Monro
Dear Doctor, I‘11 thank you to hand me my breeches;
I‘m better; I‘ll drink with you ere that you got,
I‘ll never more sicken for women or riches.
But love my relations and Doctor Monro.
I plainly perceive, were I wedded to Christy,
My peace and my pleasures I needs must forego.
He still lives a bachelor; drinks when he's thirsty,
And sings like a lark, and loves Doctor Monro,
