Whene'er weak husbands went astray,

He guefs'd their wives were in the way : 'Twas then his charity was fhown,

He chofe to fee them when alone.

Now was he bent on cuckoldom:
He knew friend Dennis was from home:
His wife (a poor neglected beauty,
Defrauded of a husband's duty)

Had often told him at confeffion,

How hard the struggled 'gainft tranfgreflion.
He now refolves, in heat of blood,

To try how firm her virtue ftood.

He knew that wine (to love beft aid)
Has oft' made bold the fhame-fac'd maid,
Taught her to romp, and take more freedoms,
Than nymphs train'd-up at Smith's or Needham's.
A mighty bottle strait he chofe,

Such as might give two Friars their dose.
Nannette he call'd: the cellar-door
She ftraight unlocks, defcends before;
He follow'd clofe. But when he fpies
His favourite cafk; with lifted eyes
And lifted hands aloud he cries,
Heigh-day! my darling wine aftoop!
It muit, alas! have fprung a hoop.
That there's a leak is past all doubt,
(Reply'd the maid)-I'll find it out.
She fees the candle down in hafte,
Tucks her white apton round her waist.

}

The hogfhead's mouldy fide afcends;
She ftraddles wide, and downward bends:
So low fhe stoops to feek the flaw,, -
Her coats rose up, her master faw-
I fee he cries (then clafpt her faft)
The leak through which my wine has past.
Then all in hafte the maid defcended,
And in a trice the leak was mended.
He found in Nannette all he wanted,
So Dennis' brows remain'd unplanted.
Ere fince this time, all lufty Friars
(Warm'd with predominant defires,
Whene'er the flesh with fpirit quarrels)
Look on the fex as leaky barrels.
Beware of thefe, ye jealous fpouses!
From fuch-like Coopers guard your houses;
For, if they find not work at home,
For jobbs.through all the town they roam.

THE

Whene'er weak hufbands went aftray, He guefs'd their wives were in the way: 'Twas then his charity was fhown,

He chofe to fee them when alone.

Now was he bent on cuckoldom:
He knew friend Dennis was from home:
His wife (a poor neglected beauty,
Defrauded of a husband's duty)

Had often told him at confeffion,
How hard the struggled 'gainft tranfgreffion.
He now refolves, in heat of blood,

To try how firm her virtue ftood.

He knew that wine (to love beft aid)
Has oft' made bold the fhame-fac'd maid,
Taught her to romp, and take more freedoms,
Than nymphs train'd-up at Smith's or Needham's.
A mighty bottle ftrait he chofe,

Such as might give two Friars their dofe.
Nannette he call'd: the cellar-door
She straight unlocks, descends before;
He follow'd clofe. But when he fpies
His favourite cafk; with lifted eyes
And lifted hands aloud he cries,
Heigh-day! my darling wine aftoop!
It must, alas! have fprung a hoop.
That there's a leak is past all doubt,
(Reply'd the maid)-I'll find it out,
She fees the candle down in hafte,
Tucks her white apton round her waist.

}

The

The hogfhead's mouldy fide afcends;
She ftraddles wide, and downward bends:
So low fhe ftoops to feck the flaw,
Her coats rofe up, her master faw-
I fee-he cries (then clafpt her faft)
The leak through which my wine has paft.
Then all in hafte the maid defcended,
And in a trice the leak was mended.
He found in Nannette all he wanted,
So Dennis' brows remain'd unplanted.

Ere fince this time, all lufty Friars
(Warm'd with predominant defires,
Whene'er the flesh with fpirit quarrels)
Look on the fex as leaky barrels.
Beware of thefe, ye jealous spouses!
From fuch-like coopers guard your houses;
For, if they find not work at home,
For jobbs.through all the town they roam.

THE

THE

Α

EQUIVOCATION.

ATAL E.

N Abbot rich (whose tafte was good
Alike in fcience and in food)

His Bishop had refolv'd to treat;

The Bishop came, the Bishop eat.
'Twas filence, till their ftomachs fail'd;
And now at Hereticks they rail'd.
What Herefy (the Prelate faid)

Is in that Church where Priests may wed !
Do not we take the Church for life?
But thofe divorce her for a wife;
Like laymen, keep her in their houses,
And own the children of their spouses.
Vile practices! the Abbot cry'd,
For pious ufe we 're set aside!
Shall we take wives? Marriage at best
Is but carnality profest!

Now, as the Bishop took his glass,
He fpy'd our Abbot's buxom lafs,

Who crofs'd the room; he mark'd her eye
That glow'd with love; his pulfe beat high.
Fye, father, fye, (the Prelate cries)

A maid fo young! for fhame, be wife.
These indifcretions lend a handle

To lewd lay-tongues, to give us fcandal.