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A pair of youths, too fond of missing,

That is, of one sad crime call d kissing,

Could never let the girls alone;

For ever busy with their lips

Of Adam's block two nice young chips

As good for love as e'er was known.

To expiate these kissing crimes,

Committed, Lord, a thousane times,

The Priest; enjoin'd them penance twenty nights

Each in his bed a human scull,

Cheek by jowl,

To try what good might be perform'd by frights

In a few days the Sinners met—

'Pierre, wasn't thccthee [sic] in a dev'ish sweat,

To sleep so near a cd old stinking head,

My senses all were nearly lost;

I dreamt of nothing but a ghost;