Page:Jovial batchelor.pdf/4

 ( 4 ) Then you're reſolved to follow the troop,

Of wenches who play with their larry poop,

For leſs than a ſhilling perhaps you'll be willing,

To go to the devil as round as a hoop.

Here you are ſpending the days of your youth,

With ſtrumpets and harlots they flatter and ſooth,

Young Jennies and Nancies with impudent fancies,

But if you'll be ſolid let's come to the truth.

There's nothing more happy than a marry'd life,

There is honour and joy with a beautiful wife,

Whilſt batchelors whoring a curſing and roaring,

Are often embroil'd in ſome damnable strife.

There is an old proverb, now take it by halves,

That changing of paſtures makes curious calves,

But changing of laffes will pepper your a---ſ,

And make you look foon like a forrowful knave.

So long as you have money and courage with all,

Upon you your miſſes they often will call,

But when the Pox ſeizes with other diſeaſes,

They'll leave you ſcarce able to go or to crawl.

Full of the gout too in every limb,

With ſpawling and ſpitting and countenance grim,

In a deep falivation for your reputation,

Oh! then you'll appear in a delicate trim.

Pray what do you think of your pleaſant fongs,

When you are a ſpitting up your lights and lungs,

Your flattering miſſes won't treat you with kiſſes,

Not touch you perhaps even with a pair of tongs.

You'll think yourſelf happy, we may ſuppoſe,

If you can recover with half a noſe,

A fig for your honour thanks be to your donor,

You'll wander abroad to ſcare the crows.

Since theſe are the fruits of a whoring life,

Pray what do you think of a virtuous wife,

Where you are poſſeſſing cordial bleſſing,

Continually freed from this