On Mrs. Riddell’s Birthday
4th November 1793.
Old Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night’s horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English hanging, drowning. “Now Jove, for once be mighty civil. To counterbalance all this evil; Give me, and I’ve no more to say, Give me Maria’s natal day! That brilliant gift shall so enrich me, Spring, Summer, Autumn, cannot match me.” “’Tis done!” says Jove; so ends my story, And Winter once rejoiced in glory.
My Spouse Nancy
Tune—“My Jo Janet.”
“Husband, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, Sir; Tho’ I am your wedded wife Yet I am not your slave, Sir.” “One of two must still obey, Nancy, Nancy; Is it Man or Woman, say, My spouse Nancy?’ “If ’tis still the lordly word, Service and obedience; I’ll desert my sov’reign lord, And so, good bye, allegiance!” “Sad shall I be, so bereft, Nancy, Nancy; Yet I’ll try to make a shift, My spouse Nancy.” “My poor heart, then break it must, My last hour I am near it: When you lay me in the dust, Think how you will bear it.” “I will hope and trust in Heaven, Nancy, Nancy; Strength to bear it will be given, My spouse Nancy.” “Well, Sir, from the silent dead, Still I’ll try to daunt you; Ever round your midnight bed Horrid sprites shall haunt you!” “I’ll wed another like my dear Nancy, Nancy; Then all hell will fly for fear, My spouse Nancy.”
Address
Spoken by Miss Fontenelle on her Benefit Night, December 4th, 1793, at the Theatre, Dumfries.