204
Poems on
He cries, Good Friend, I'm glad I hap'd in
Your Company, you'll make a Captain!
He lifts———but finds these gaudy Shows
Soon chang'd, to surly Looks, and Blows:
'Tis now, March, Rascal! what, d'ye grumble?
Thwack goes the Cane! I'll make you humble.
Such Weddings are: and I resemble 'em,
Almost in all Points to this Emblem.
While Courtship lasts, 'tis Dear! 'tis Madam!
The sweetest Creature sure since Adam!
Had I the Years of a Methusalem,
How in my Charmer's Praise I'd use all 'em?
O! take me to thy Arms, my Beau-ty!
I doat, adore thy very Shoe-Tye!
They wed———but Fancy grown less warming
Next Morn, he thinks the Bride less charming:
He says, nay swears my Wife grows old in
One single Month; then falls to scolding,
Your Company, you'll make a Captain!
He lifts———but finds these gaudy Shows
Soon chang'd, to surly Looks, and Blows:
'Tis now, March, Rascal! what, d'ye grumble?
Thwack goes the Cane! I'll make you humble.
Such Weddings are: and I resemble 'em,
Almost in all Points to this Emblem.
While Courtship lasts, 'tis Dear! 'tis Madam!
The sweetest Creature sure since Adam!
Had I the Years of a Methusalem,
How in my Charmer's Praise I'd use all 'em?
O! take me to thy Arms, my Beau-ty!
I doat, adore thy very Shoe-Tye!
They wed———but Fancy grown less warming
Next Morn, he thinks the Bride less charming:
He says, nay swears my Wife grows old in
One single Month; then falls to scolding,
What,
