For her I felt Smart
At first in my Heart;
Which quickly she cur’d: But alack and alas!
I now feel a Throbbing in a much lower Place.
To Jenny I went; but, alas! it was in vain:
Though she gave me the Wound, she can’t cure me again.
An Epitaph on an old Maid.
Beneath this Place there lies an ancient Maid,
Whose secret Parts no Man did e’er invade;
Scarce her own Finger she’d permit to touch