I've struck the Bargain, eas'd my pain,
And am resolv'd to take my Swain:
To phoo, and cry,
And pish, and fye,
And make a Virgin's coy Pretence,
Is all, all, all, is all, all, all, is all, all, all,
For want of Sense.
A Song. Tune, How happy's the Lover.
HOW happy's that Husband who after few Years,