Strange are th' effects, the qualities divine,
'Tis water called, but worth its weight in wine.
If in his sullen airs Sir John should come,
Three spoonfuls take, hold in your mouth—then mum:
Smile, and look pleased, when he shall rage and scold,
Still in your mouth the healing cordial hold;
One month this sympathetic medecine tried,
He'll grow a lover, you a happy bride.
But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close,
Or every prattling hussy'll beg a dose."