Miss C⸺f⸺d and Miss Ab⸺n,
Both sock and buskin bred, sir,
What would I give, I blush to own,
For both their maidenheads, sir.
Whither is S⸺e fled?
And where’s her cock of wax gone?
Who us’d to rear his crested head
Within her curly caxon!
When Jew Braham’s cabbage came,
She quitted Drury’s station,