She would be wed, but fears it is too late:
Her locks, alas! are silver’d o’er with grey;
Yet to Alcanzar swift she takes her way.
She gave a sixpence; Ladies mark the rest,
She’s with a husband and five children blest.
Here maids of fifty, widows of fourscore,
May all get marri’d for a penny more.
But is the man like as his merit priz’d?
Ah no! he is by empty fools despis’d.
A crafty youth, Will Watson was his name,