Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum,
I’ll storm, and I’ll swear, and I’ll run staring wild;
And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child.
S. M. 1708.
By Desire not to insert the Place.
What care I for Mistress May’ress;
She’s little as the Queen of Fairies:
Her little Body like my Thumb,
Is thicker far than other some;
Her Conscience yet would stretch so wide;