LORD
ERSKINE, at woman presuming to rail,
Called a
wife a tin canister tied to one's tail;
And fair
Lady Anne, while this raillery he carries on,
Seems hurt
at his lordship's degrading comparison.
But
wherefore degrading, if taken aright?
A
canister's useful and polished and bright,
And if dirt
its original purity hide,
'Tis the
fault of the puppy to whom it is tied.
No comments:
Post a Comment