_The Fifteenth Plague._

Alas! I care not, Sir, what Force you'd use,
So I my Maiden-head could quickly lose:
Oft do I wish one skill'd in _Cupid_'s Arts,
Would quickly dive into my secret Parts;
For as I am, at Home all sorts of Weather,
I kit,----as Heaven and Earth would come together,
Twirling a Wheel, I sit at home, hum drum,
And spit away my Nature on my Thumb;
Whilst those that Marry'd are, invited be
To Labours, Christnings, where the Jollitry
Of Women lies in telling, as some say,
When 'twas they did at Hoity-Toity play;
Whose Husband's Yard is longest, whilst another
Can't in the least her great Misfortune smother,
So tells, her Husband's Bauble is so short,
That when he Hunts, he never shews her Sport.
Now I, because I have my Maiden-head,
Mayn't know the Pastimes of the Nuptial Bed;
But mayn't I quickly do as Marry'd People may,
I'll either kill my self, or shortly run away.


_FINIS._


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