Miss Molly, a famed toast, was fair and young,
Had wealth and charms, but then she had a tongue
From morn to night, the eternal larum run,
Which often lost those hearts her eyes had won.
Sir John was smitten, and confessed his flame,
Sighed out the usual time, then wed the dame:
Possessed he thought of every joy of life,
But his dear Molly proved a very wife.
Excess of fondness did in time decline,
Madam loved money, and the knight loved wine.