At the Room Door her good Mamma appears,
Soon as she spies her Child with Looks demure,
She charges her to keep her Vessel pure:
Miss pertly answers to avoid her Doom,
Mamma, whose Hat and Wig is in the Room?
The good old Dame yeilds at the just Reproach,
Cries—Well my Dear, don't take too much!
Thus various Joys soon waste the fleeting Night,
And Sleep and Lust the Croud to Bed invite;
Some in their Truckle-Beds to snore all Day,