To the Tune of, When she came ben she bobed.
Come, fill me a bumper, my jolly brave boys,
Let’s have no more female impert’nence and noise;
For I’ve try’d the endearments and pleasures of love,
And I find they’re but nonsence and whimsies, by Jove.
When first of all Betty and I were acquaint,
I whin’d like a fool, and she sigh’d like a saint:
But I found her religion, her face and her love,
Were hypocrisy, paint, and self-interest, by Jove.
Sweet Cecil came next with her languishing air,
Her outside was orderly, modest and fair;
But her soul was sophisticate, so was her love,
For I found she was only a strumpet, by Jove.
Little double-gilt Jenny’s gold charm’d me at last:
(You know marriage and money together does best.)
But the baggage forgetting her vows and her love,
Gave her gold to a sniv’ling dull coxcomb, by Jove.
Come fill me a bumper then, jolly brave boys;
Here’s a farewell to female impert’nence and noise:
I know few of the sex that are worthy my love;
And for strumpets and jilts, I abhor them, by Jove.
– New Words by Different Hands.