'Young Lady B——mp, strange to tell,
Was much attached to virtue;
And scream'd, and Cæsar said, "Sweet belle,
I'll tickle, but not hurt you."
'And, then, his wicked fingers stray'd
About the fair one's graces;
The neck and bosom of the maid,
And such forbidden places.
'Then, in the maiden's eyes, a tear
Glisten'd, and seem'd to linger;