University of Virginia Library

Old mother earth, in this sad case,
Lift up her scorch'd and wrinkled face,

And, seiz'd with a convulsion fit,
(Tho' too much heat occasion'd it),
She thratches, trembles, and she groans,
And falls down on her hurkle-bones,
Claps both her hands upon her eyes,
And thus she simpers, whines and cries.
“Alas! to what hand shall I turn me?
‘This flame, alive, is like to burn me.
‘Don Jove! what means this rage and fury,
‘To scorch me thus without a jury?
‘My crimes could ne'er deserve so much,
‘As thus to fry me like a witch.
‘What mean ye, Sir, to play such pranks?
‘ I can say I deserv'd more thanks;
‘For, Sir, you know, and your own butchers,
‘Should you deny't, would be my vouchers;
‘Well can they tell, would they but speak,
‘How oft I've made your kitchen reek
‘With good fat beasts of my own feeding:
‘You might have had some better breeding,
‘And not with flames have thus consum'd me,
‘For many a time I have perfum'd ye.
‘But then, suppose you'd guilty make me
‘Of some black crime, (tho' devil me
‘If I know wherein I've offended,
‘And if I knew, I would amend it:)
‘Pray, Hogan Mogan, (now I'd coax you),
‘Would you but tell me what provokes you
‘'Gainst Neptune, who was never sparing
‘With cabelow and good Lewes herring,
‘Well dress'd, to please your dainty palate,
‘While I provided you with sallad?
‘But if you're such a stingy fellow,
‘As neither him nor me to value,
‘Yet humbly, Sir, I would desire,
‘Now when your neighbour's house takes fire,
‘You'd mind your own; know this is fit,
‘Had you one ounce of mother-wit,
‘(And this, you know, is always found
‘To be of clergy worth a pound),
‘Or else this flame will reach the spheres,
‘ And burn your house about your ears.”
This said, her head within her shell
She drew, and in a swoon she fell.