From a Bog-House at Hampstead.
Hard Stools proceed from costive Claret;
Yet mortal Man cannot forbear it.
So Childbed-Women, full of Pain,
Will grunt and groan, and to't again.
At Hampstead, in a Window.
Gammer Sprigins had gotten a Maidenhead,
And for a Gold Guinea she brought it to Bed;
But I found by embracing that I was undone;
'Twas a d---n'd p-ck-y Wh--re, just come from London.