For supper, lunch, and tea;
Upon this bosom Susan swore
She'd never love but me.
Alas! for that inconstant cook
The 'elmet 'ad no charms;
A most sanguineous butcher took
My Susan to his arms.
My Susan's cheeks were fair and sleek—
So were the chops she cooked;
But on her chops, and on her cheek,