HIS wife howe'er engaged his constant cares;
He counted e'en the number of her hairs;
And kept a hag who followed every hour,
Where'er she went, each motion to devour;
Duenna like, true semblance of a shade,
That never quits, yet moves as if afraid.

THIS arch collection, like a prayer-book bound;
Was in the blockhead's pocket always found,
The form religious of the work, he thought,
Would prove a charm 'gainst vice whenever sought!

ONE holy day, it happened that our dame,
As from the neighb'ring church she homeward came;
And passed a house, some wight, concealed from view;
A basket full of filth upon her threw.

WITH anxious care apologies were made;
The lady, frightened by the frolick played,
Quite unsuspicious to the mansion went;
Her aged friend for other clothes she sent,
Who hurried home, and ent'ring out of breath;
Informed old hunks--what pained him more than death

ZOUNDS! cried the latter, vainly I may look
To find a case like this within my book;
A dupe I'm made, and nothing can be worse:--
Hell seize the work--'tis thoroughly a curse!