Song XLVI., pp.297-298.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

ΗΕ. 

OF all comforts I miscarried, 

When I play’d the sot and married, 

‘Tis a trap there’s none need doubt on’t 

Those that are in, wou’d fain get out on’t. 

– 

SHE. 

Fie! my dear, pray come to bed, 

That napkin take, and bind your head, 

Too much drink your brains have dos’d, 

You’ll be quite alter’d when repos’d. 

– 

HE. 

‘Oons! ‘tis all one if I’m up or ly down, 

For as soon as the cock crows I’ll be gone. 

– 

SHE. 

‘Tis to grieve me, thus you leave me, 

Was I, was I made a wife to ly alone? 

– 

HE. 

From your arms my self divorcing, 

I this morn must ride a coursing, 

A sport that far excells a madam

Or all the wives have been since Adam

– 

SHE. 

I, when thus I’ve lost my due, 

Must hug my pillow wanting you; 

And whilst you tope it all the day, 

Regale in cups of harmless tea. 

– 

HE. 

Pox, what care I! drink your slops till you die; 

Yonder’s brandy will keep me a month from home. 

– 

SHE. 

If thus parted, I’m broken hearted; 

When I, when I send for you, my dear, pray come. 

– 

HE. 

E’er I be from rambling hindred, 

I’ll renounce my spouse and kindred; 

To be sober I’ve no leisure, 

What’s a man without his pleasure? 

– 

SHE. 

To my grief then I must see. 

Strong wine and Nantz my rivals be; 

Whilst you carouse it with your blades, 

Poor I sit stitching with my maids. 

– 

HE. 

‘Sounds! you may go to your gossips, you know, 

And there, if you meet with a friend, pray do. 

– 

SHE. 

Go, ye joker, go, provoker, 

Never, never shall I meet a man like you. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s