Wondering, he stared, scarcely his eyes believed,
But found his ears agreeably deceived.
"Why, how now, Molly, what's the crotchet now?"
She smiles, and answers only with a bow.
Then clasping her about,—"Why, let me die!
These nightclothes, Moll, become thee mightily!"
With that, he sighed, her hand began to press,
And Betty calls, her lady to undress;
"Nay, kiss me, Molly, for I'm much inclined."
Her lace she cuts, to take him in the mind.