Nay, build rich trophies unto Poetry.'
''Tis good to see a convert mind: stand by.'
Apollo said. Says Vulcan, 'By the mass,
I have espied a plump-cheek'd bonny lass.
She is a wrig, I warrant. Where's my wife?
140Oh! 'tis a hell to live a coupled life.'
Thus did the Blacksmith mutter, till Apollo
Cited the damsel with a gentle holloa.
Up comes the Marget with a mincing pace,
A city-stride, court-garb, and smirking face,