(3)
Nor never stript me to my stays,
to play at punk and ballet:
In Ratafia ne’er made debauch,
nor reell'd like topping Gunner,
Nor let my Mercer seize my coach,
when I was Dame of Honour.
I still preserv’d my maiden fame,
in spite of oaths and lying;
Tho' many a long-chin’d younker came,
and fain would be enjoying:
My fan to guard my lips I kept,
from Cupid’s loud o’er-runner,
And many a Roman-nose I rapp’d,
when I was Dame of Honour.
My curling locks I never bought
of beggar's dirty daughters;
Nor prompted by a wanton thought,
above knee ty’d my garters;
I never glow’d with painted pride,
like Punk when the Devil has won her,
Nor prov’d a cheat to be a bride,
when I was Dame of Honour.
My neighbours still I treated round,
and strangers that came near me;
The poor too always welcome found,
whose pray’rs did still endear me:
Let therefore who at court would be
no churl, nor yet no fawner,
Match in old hospitality
Queen Bess's Dame of Honour.
