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’M twenty Weeks married, and nothing but Grief,

I’m twenty Weeks married and finds no Relief,

I'm twenty Weeks married but yet am a Maid,

I'm ruin'd, I'm ruin'd, I'm ruin'd, ſhe ſaid.

I long to do as my Neighbours has done,

To have a fine Daughter, or a beautiful Son:

I long for to call up my Goſſipping Crew,

I'm ruin'd, I'm ruin'd, Oh, what ſhall I do!

There's Boufler in the Morning, and Boufler in Night,

And Boufler is all the young Ladies Delight;

The Ladies of Honour they'll give double Fees,

For Boufler to play between their two Knees.

My Boufler he is a bonny brisk Lad,

He cures the Green-ſickneſs though never ſo bad;

He cures the Green-ſickneſs, and other Diſeaſe,

Both Palſy and Gout, and old wrinkled Face.

If I had a Hundred bright Guineas in Gold,

And as many more as my Apron would hold,

I would give them all, and my Jewels too,

If that I could know what Boufler could do.

A young Man ſtood by and heard her ſad Grief,

I think in my Heart, I could give you Relief;

He pull'd up her Petticoats, and her Smock too,

Says he, now I'll ſhew you what Boufler can do. With