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But grind the young bitches as ſmall as the ſand,
I'd teach them to leave me in Limbo.
I have an old uncle that lives in the Weſt,
who heard of my fatal diſaſter,
Poor ſoul, his heart was never at reſt,
his ſorrows came faſter and faſter,
He came to the priſon, to ſee my ſad caſe,
As ſoon as I ſaw him, I ſtraight knew his face,
I on him ſtood gazing, as one in amaze,
I wiſh'd myſelf then out of Limbo.
Said he, If I ſet you once more on your legs,
and put you in credit and faſhion,
Do you think you can leave off Bridget and Peg,
O how can you bridle your paſſion?
Believe me dear uncle, if ever they come,
To tempt me to ſin, as before they have done,
Adds-zooks, I'd ſoundly belabour their bums,
I'll teach them to leave me in Limbo.
He gave me a purſe of five hundred pcunds,
the which was told all up in guineas,
I returned him thanks, the ſame being done,
I went to fee Betty and Jenny;
I went in my rags, they knew not of my gold,
They turned me out in the rain and the cold,
You'd laugh to ſee how the bitches did fcold,
and clack'd at my lying in Limbo.
I drew out my bags of five hundred pounds,
and poured them all on the table,
This glittering ſight they no ſooner beheld,
but they began to ſniggle and giggle,
And fain would have been to ſit on my lap,
And in a laughing manner my cheeks they did clap,
But I thought in my heart I'd have no more of that
for 'twas that which brought me to Limbo.
