So He, to quiet love’s alarm,
Took—nature into keeping.
Pickle’s rise gave birth to gall,
She scarcely was respected,
The green-room seem’d a surgeon’s hall,
Her body there dissected;
Tho’, both were sore, she had two eyes,
Said envy’s bitter daughter,
And while she prais’d her legs and thighs,
On c—t she threw cold water.