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‹‹‹ prev (254) Page 138Page 138Wig

(256) next ››› Page 140Page 140Boys of the island

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139
Tke wig's the thing, the wig,
Be of the ton a natty sprig,
The thing, the tippy, and the twig ;
Nor care who are the truly wise,
For, after all, in vulgar eyes,
The wisdom's in the wig.
Cries Verjuice, pointing at the play,
Is that your wife intriguing, pray ?
Oh, no, my lovely's hairs are grey,
That woman's hair is flaxen ;
Then say, who would not be a wife,
To lead an unsuspected life,
And cure all foul and jealous strife,
By wearing of a caxon ?
The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig,
Then hey for fun, and rig, and gig,
Who for dull mortals care a fig ?
'Tis useless to be truly wise,
For, after all, in vulgar eyes,
The wisdom's in the wig.
Thus arm'd, our lovers do not spare,
As well a hedgehog or a bear,
A Friezland hen, a Flanders' mare,
Whate'er you wish will suit us ;
The lawyers flaw shall find a patch,
A bob the knowing head shall thatch,
The hen-peck'd husband wear a scratch,
His wife, a monstrous Brutus.
The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig*
Who'd in the maws of caverns dig,
Or Heliconia's potions swig,
Or study to be truly wise,
When, after all, in vulgar eyes,
The wisdom's in the wi&".

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