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 Here we rejoice, because no rent We pay for our poor tenement, Wherein we rest, and never fear The landlord or the usurer. The quarter-day does ne'er affright Our peaceful slumbers in the night. We eat our own and batten more, Because we feed on no man's score; But pity those whose flanks grow great, Swell'd with the lard of others' meat. We bless our fortunes when we see Our own beloved privacy; And like our living, where we're known To very few, or else to none. Prew, i.e., his servant, Prudence Baldwin.

He who commends the vanquished, speaks the power And glorifies the worthy conqueror.

Some parts may perish, die thou canst not all: The most of thee shall 'scape the funeral.

If ye will with Mab find grace, Set each platter in his place; Rake the fire up, and get Water in, ere sun be set. Wash your pails, and cleanse your dairies; Sluts are loathsome to the fairies; Sweep your house, who doth not so, Mab will pinch her by the toe.