Which never shed soft pity’s tear,
Small holes in others geer could spy,
And microscopic follies, prying view.
And sorely vex’d was ev’ry simple thing
That wander’d near her never-tiring sting!
Miss Debby had a Parrot, who,
If Fame speaks true,
Could prate, and tell what neighbours did,
And yet the saucy rogue was never chid!
Sometimes, he talk’d of roving Spouses