« ПредишнаНапред »
Baskets of Fish at Billingsgate did watch,
Cod, Whiting, Oyster, Mackrel, Sprat, or Plaice : There learn'd she Speech from Tongues that never
cease. Slander beside her, like a Magpye, chatters,
With Envy (spitting Cat) dread Foe to Peace ; Like a curs'd Cur, Malice before her clatters, And vexing ev'ry Wight, tears Cloaths and all to
Her Mouth was black as Bull-Dogs at the Stall ; She scratched, bit, and spar'd not Lace nor Band,
And Bitch and Rogue her Answer was at all ;
Nay, e'en the Parts of Shame by Name wou'd call; Whene'er the pasied by a Lane or Nook,
Wou'd greet the Man who turn'd him to the Wall, And by his Hand obscene the Porter took, Nor ever did alkance like modest Virgin look.
VI. SUCH Place hath Deptford, Navy-building Town,
Woolwich and W'apping, smelling strong of Pitch ; Such Lambeth, Envy of each Band and Gown,
And Twick'nam such, which fairer Scenes enrich,
Grots, Statues, Urns, and Jon's Dog and Bitch, Ne Village is without, on either Side, All ир the silver Thames, or ail a down ;
Ne Richmond's self, from whose tall Front are ey'd Vales, Spires, meandring Streams, and Windsor's
* The CAPON'S TALE to a Lady
who fatber'd ber Lampoons upon her Acquaintance.
N Yorkshire dwelt a sober Yeoman,
Whose Wife, a clean, Pains-taking Woman,
A Hen she had, whose tuneful Clocks
Yet tender was this Hen 1o fair,
Our prudent Dame bethought her then
Verfés on a Lady's Table-Book.
The feather’d Dupe awakes content, .
SUCH, Lady Mary, are your Tricks ;
VERSES wrote on a Lady's Ivory
RUSE my Leaves thro' ev'ry Part,
And think thou seelt my Owner's Hearts
Verses on a Lady's Table-Book,
Here (lovely Nymph pronounce my Doom,)
To their EXCELLENCIES. the Lords
Justices of Ireland.
The humble Petition of Frances Harris,
Chamber, because I was cold,
and Six Pence, besides Farthings, in Money and
Gold; So because I had been buying Things for my Lady
last Night, I was resolv'd to tell my Money, to see if it was
right : Now you must know, because my Trunk has a very
bad Lock, Therefore all the Money I have, which, God
knows, is a very small Stock, I keep in my Pocket, ty'd about my Middle, next
So when I went to put up my Purse, as God would
have it, my Smock was unript, And instead of putting it into my Pocket, down it slipt: