A Pastoral

BY the side of a green stagnate pool,
Brick-dust Nan she sat scratching her head,
Black matted locks frizzled her skull,
As bristles the hedge-hog bespread;
The wind toss'd her tatters abroad,
Her ashy-bronz'd-beauties reveal'd;
A link boy to her, through the mud,
Bare-footed, flew over the field.

As vermin on vermin delight,
As carrion best suits the crow's taste,
So beggars and bunters unite,
And swine-like on dirt make a feast:
To a Hottentot offals have charms,
With garbage their bosoms they deck;
She sluttishly open'd her arms,
He filthily fell on her neck.

On her flabby breasts one hand he plac'd,
No towels those breasts ever teaze,
The other fist grip'd her stays-wanting-waist,
Like ladies, she dress'd for her ease:
Jack drew forth his quid, and he swore,
Then his lower lip, charg'd to the brim,
He scoul'd, like a lewd grunting boar,
And squinting, she leer'd upon him.

"Oh, my love, thof I cannot well jaw,"
This plyer at playhouse began,
"Not tobacco's so sweet to the chaw,
"As to kiss is the lips of my Nan:"
O! my Jack, cries the mud-coloured she,
And gave him some rib squeezing hugs,
In a dust hole I'll cuddle with thee,
Aye, blast me! though bit by the bugs.

Full as black as themselves, now the sky
To the south of the hemisphere lour'd,
To finish love's feast in the dry,
To a stable they hastily scour'd;
While hungry rats round them explor'd,
And cobwebs their canopy grace,
Undaunted on litter they snor'd,
Fatigu'd with dirt, drink, and embrace.