| A mastif whelp with other ruff-Island-lik Currs fetcht from amongst the Antipedes | |
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Satire 62.
[Metamorphiz'd Mick: where's thy Target man?]
Metamorphiz'd
Mick: where's thy Target man?
What chaung'd into a lisping Ladies fann?
Is dubb a dubb Bellonas warlike noates,
Chaung'd to fa la la, streind through shrill Evnukes throates?
Art turn'd from grimm-face't Mars his valiaunce,
To smiling Uenus hir tempting daliaunce?
Me thinkes those leggs oft harnest with bright steele,
To twind with Nimphes weake limmes no sweet should feele,
Hast learn'd to skipp, smyle, kisse, & looke demure?
Ith' steede of charge or raise a counter mure,
For shame rechaunge, thou maiden-chaunged Mick
Come vse thy pyke; tha'st vs'd too long thy ---
| A mastif whelp with other ruff-Island-lik Currs fetcht from amongst the Antipedes | |
|