IMPATIENCE.
Oh! rid me of this torture, quickly there,
My Madam, with the everlasting voice.
The bells, in time of pestilence, ne'er made
Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion.
————————————All my house,
But now, steam'd like a bath, with her thick breath,
A lawyer could not have been heard, nor scarce
Another woman, such a hail of words
She has let fall.