Well, I will try to do my best,
And set you down among the rest.
FROM A CURRIER AND LEATHER-CUTTER.
Though I each day well dress my leather,
I often wish we were together;
For you alone have gain’d my heart,
And stripp’d my skin of ev’ry art.
In vain I colour, shave, and cut,
You to my tramp have surely put.
My wax is hard, my paste is spoil’d,