Would fire a fine-dressed modern MAUDLIN with scorn,
And move modish MOLLY to spleen.
The Dairymaid's true "golden age" is long fled
With Summer, and pippins and cream;
Like little Bo-Peep and Boy-Blue, it is dead,
Save as parts of a pastoral dream.
O where and O where is our Dairymaid gone?
O where, and O where can she be?
Well, they make cockney shop-girls of PHILLIS and JOAN,
And I guess that they make such with she!