You churl, I'll maintain
My father built Lusk,
The castle of Slane,
And Carrick Drumrusk:
The Earl of Kildare,
And Moynalta his brother,
As great as they are,
I was nurst by their mother.[8]
Ask that of old madam:
She'll tell you who's who,
As far up as Adam,
She knows it is true.
Come down with that beam,
If cudgels are scarce,
A blow on the weam,
Or a kick on the a----se.
[Footnote 1: A wooden vessel.--_F_.]
[Footnote 2: A covering of linen, worn on the heads of the
women.--_F_.]
[Footnote 3: The name of an Irishman.--_F_.]
[Footnote 4: An Irish oath.--_F_.]
[Footnote 5: The name of an Irishwoman.--_F_.]
[Footnote 6: Surname of an Irishwoman.--_F_.]
[Footnote 7: Daggers, or short swords,--_F_.]
[Footnote 8: It is the custom in Ireland to call nurses, foster-mothers;
their husbands, foster-fathers; and their children, foster-brothers or
foster-sisters; and thus the poorest claim kindred to the rich.--_F_.]
THE PROGRESS OF BEAUTY. 1719[1]
When first Diana leaves her bed,
Vapours and steams her looks disgrace,
A frowzy dirty-colour'd red
Sits on her cloudy wrinkled face:
But by degrees, when mounted high,
Her artificial face appears
Down from her window in the sky,
Her spots are gone, her visage clears.
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