BALLAD. (O think on the time when you…)

O think on the time when you came home at night, And supp'd upon muscles, no lily more white, When I used to provide you with many a treat Of as fine Melton oysters as ever were eat.

Now see what a change! all the muscles for me May be trod under foot, or thrown into the sea; My Joey is false! and the once sprightly tone With which I cry'd oysters is sunk to a drone.

When the last kit of salmon we sat down to broach, And you told me your heart was as sound as a roach, How sweet was my temper, what joys did I feel! Little thinking you'd slip through my hands like an eel.

But my temper's now chang'd—I, that once was so mild, And was thought to be gentle and meek as a child; So crusty am grown I ne'er speak a word civil, And my customers say I'm as cross as the devil.

My stall was so clean, and my tubs were so white, They were perfectly—people would tell me—a sight: I listen'd with joy when the folks told me so, For my stall and my tubs were both scower'd for Joe:

But now they're all dirty, neglected they lie, I oft take them up, and as oft throw them buy; For his sake I pleasure in cleaning them found, He has left me, and now they're as black as the ground.