Her Roman nose was red; with blue
Her lips spread o’er.
The fair young maiden by her side,
By briskly rubbing, bravely tried
Her grandma’s blood to make reflow—
It seem’d a hopeless object, though,
She labour’d for!
“Oh joy!” this maiden cried, when she
Observed they’d stopped at forty-three;
“We are at home, dear Grandma, come!