The friend whom, wild from Wisdom's way, The fumes of wine infuriate send, (Not moony madness more astray) Who butdeplores that hapless friend? Mine was th' insensate frenzied part, Ah! why should I such scenes outlive? Scenes so abhorrent to my heart!- 'Tis thine to pity and forgive.
As I gaedup byyon gate-end, When day was waxin' weary, Whadid I meet come down the street, Butpretty Peg, my dearie! Her airsaesweet, an'shape complete, Wi' naeproportion wanting, The Queen of Love did never move Wi' motion mairenchanting. Wi'linked hands we took the sands, Adown yonwinding river; Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower, Forget
If you rattle along like your Mistress' tongue, Your speed will outrival the dart; Buta fly for your load, you'll break down on the road, If your stuff be as rotten's her heart.
"Stop thief!" dame Nature call'd to Death, As Willy drew his latest breath; How shall I make a fool again? My choicest model thou hast ta'en.
Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief For Moses and his rod; At Yarico's sweet nor of grief The rockwith tears had flow'd.
Here lies John Bushby-honest man, Cheat him, Devil-if you can!
That there is a falsehood in his looks, I must and will deny: They tell their Master is a knave, And sure they do not lie.
Here lies, now a prey to insulting neglect, What once was a butterfly, gay in life's beam: Want only of wisdom denied her respect, Want only of goodness denied her esteem.