Old Philemy my Father was full Fourscore Years old,
And tho' he be dead he'll be glad to be told;
That we Two are Married, my dear spare no cost,
But send him some Letter, upon the last Post.
The Triumphs of Peace,
or the Widdows and Maids Rejoycing.
DEAR Mother I am Transported,
To think of the boon Comrades;