Yea like a streame you ought to let it flow,
And then she reach’d and once more let it goe.
Streight an old woman with a brace of chins,
A bunch of keys, and cushion for her pins,
Seeing in earnest, the good woman lack it
A very great Creature-comfort.
Drawes a strong water bottle from her placket;
Well heated with her flesh, she take’s a sup,
Then gives the sick, and bids her drink it up.
A great crie, and a little wooll.