The first Four always will be Young,
And the last will never be Old,
With a Fal, &c.
At ev'ry Feast, e'er we are all deceas'd,
And the Service begins to be hard;
'Tis surely your Duty, to Toast a young Beauty,
Call'd Madamosel Audenard,
With a Fal, &c.
All Joy to his Grace, for the ninth of his Race,
She's as fair as most of the former;