AIR—"Oh, Mary, heave a sigh for me."
O MARE aeva si forme;
Forme ure tonitru;
Iambicum as amandum,
Olet Hymen promptu;
Mihi is vetas an ne se,
As humano erebi;
Olet mecum marito te,
Or eta beta pi.
Alas, plano more meretrix,
Mi ardor vel uno;
Inferiam ure artis base,
Tolerat me urebo.
Ah me ve ara silicet,
Vi laudu vimin thus?
Hiatu as arandum sex—
Illuc Ionicus.
Heu sed heu vix en imago,
My missis mare sta;
O cantu redit in mihi
Hibernas arida?
A veri vafer heri si,
Mihi resolves indu:
Totius olet Hymen cum—
Accepta tonitru.
DIC. DEAN SWIFT.
Dic, heris agro at, an da quar to fine ale,
Fora ringat ure nos, an da stringat ure tale.
[Footnote: Dick, here is a groat, a quart o' fine ale.
For a ring at your nose, and a string at your tail.]
MOLL. DEAN SWIFT.
Mollis abuti,
Has an acuti,
No lasso finis,
Molli divinis.
[Footnote: Moll is a beauty,
Has an acute eye;
No lass so fine is,
Molly divine is.]
TO MY MISTRESS. DEAN SWIFT.
O mi de armis tres,
Imi na dis tres.
Cantu disco ver
Meas alo ver?
[Footnote: O my dear mistress
I am in a distress.
Can't you discover
Me as a lover?]