The Irish have a certain Root,
Our Parsnip’s very like unto’t,
Which eats with Butter wond’rous well,
And like Potatoes makes a Meal.
Now from this Root there comes a Name,
Which own’d is by the beauteous Dame,
Who sways the Heart of him who rules
A mighty Herd of Knaves and Fools.
A Rebus written in one of the Windows of a large House near Epsom.
The Court of Love’s assembled here,