905. UPON PRICKLES. EPIG.
Prickles is waspish, and puts forth his sting
For bread, drink, butter, cheese; for everything
That Prickles buys puts Prickles out of frame;
How well his nature's fitted to his name!
945. UPON BLISSE.
Blisse, last night drunk, did kiss his mother's knee;
Where will he kiss, next drunk, conjecture ye.
946. UPON BURR.
Burr is a smell-feast, and a man alone,
That, where meat is, will be a hanger on.
947. UPON MEG.
Meg yesterday was troubled with a pose,
Which, this night harden'd, sodders up her nose.
Pose, rheum, cold in the head.