I’m as bad bit as you, by your plaguy long Nose:
You have not by half so much as I wanted,
I’ve more than you want, yet y’are not contented.
From the Playhouse Boghouse.
Good Folks, sh--t and write, and mend honest Bog’s Trade,
For when you sh--t Rhymes, you help him to Bread:
He’el feed on a Jest, that is broke with your Wind,
And fatten on what you here leave behind.
From A Boghouse at the White Hart, Petersfield.
Were this Place to be view’d by a Herald of Note,