Classic Poem

Book I. Ode V.

A PARODY.

What Lady Bab, thy Partner bless'd,
In honours rich her Favourite crowns?
To whom, by thee caress'd,
Spite of an envious Rival's frowns,
Thy hand is offer'd — and the game
With perouettes of matchless fame?

Hers, the chang'd Partner to lament;
But not at harmless Whist alone,
Thy rage will find its vent;
Abroad with spattering venom thrown,
'Twill blast with anecdote of spleen
The hips of cork and bosom lean.

When the fond Lover you appear,
With extacy of hideous grin,
That spreads from ear to ear;
She holds erect her bristled chin,
And thinks for ever she can say,
You only are her Cecisbe .

She little knows the Tabby's heart,
That smirks and cringing bows conceal —
That hates the Lover's part,
Unless her Abigail you steal.
Me ******* shall bless, and gracious shine,
No Queen for you , but wholly mine!