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‹‹‹ prev (237) Page 233Page 233My passion is as mustard strong

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Like a ftuck pig, I gaping ftare,
And eye her o'er and o'er,
Lean as a rake with fighs and care.
Sleek as a moufe before.
Pluinp as a partridge I was known;,
And foft as filk my skin,
My cheeks as fat as butter grown.
But as a groat now thin.
I, melancholy as a cat,
Am kept awake to weep.
But (he, infenfible of that,
Soiind as a top can deep.
Hard is lier heart, as flint or fl:one>.
She laughs to fee me pale ;
And n-erry as a grig is grown,
And brisk as boitl'd ale.
.The god of love, at her approach j
Is bufy as a bee ;
Hearts, found as any bell or roach.
Are fmit, and figh like me.
Ah me ! as thick as hops or hail,.
The fine men crowd about her j-
Bat loon as dead as a door-nail
Shall I be, if without her.
Strait as ray leg her (hape appears,
O ! were we join'd together.
My heart would foon be free from cares.
And lighter than a feather.
As fine as five pence is her mein.
No drum was ever t'ghter ;
Her glance is as a razor keen,
And not tlie fun is brighter.
j^s Ibfr as pap her kifles are,
Methinks I feel them yet j
â– Browii

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