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Still field after field to the market i ſent
My land I ſold off, and my money I ſpent,
My heart was ſo hard'ned it would not relent,
but now I am clapt into Limbo.
I uſed to vaunt as it I would fly,
and ſtrut like a crow in a gutter,
The people did cry when e'er I paſs'd by,
there goes Mr. Foppling Flutter;
Like top and top galant i hoiſted my ſaile,
With my fringed cravat; and wig with two tails,
But now I am ready to gnaw my own nails,
confined to a chamber in Limbo.
I uſed to hunt and ſport with my dogs,
I thought none ſo gallant as I was,
My doxies I bought ſhoes and fine leather cloge,
yet none ſo ſlighted as I was:
With hawks, hounds, whores, & fine ambling nags,
I revell'd about till i empty'd my bags,
My fine coat is turn'd to contemptible rags,
ſince I was clapt into Limbo.
I kept up a brace of as delicate jades,
as ever brought nine-pence to nothing,
My credit I've mortgag'd with several trades,
to keep them in meat, drink, and clothing,
The goldſmith for jewels, rich lockets and rings,
And others for laces and fine bridal-strings,
I pleaſur'd my doxies with fifty rare things,
for which I am got into Limbo.
But as I lay ſleeping one day in the ſtraw,
bewailing my woful condition,
Being ready with hunger my fingers to gnaw,
I ſigh'd and brought forth this expreſſion:
If I could but get the young whores to my hand,
To argue the caſe very long I'd not ſtand,
