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Addressed to the LADIES.
Fair Ladies, ’tis not very arch,
To talk about the first of March.
That woful day when each of ye.
Must leave your darling Nectar, TEA!
Your China, which attracts the Eye.
Like Lumber, must neglected lie:
And dearest Tea-Kettle’s harder Lot.
Must change him to a Porridge Pot.
But now, methinks I hear you say.
Sufficient is the evil Day.
Then why should you, with Raven’s Nose.
Anticipate the fatal Vote,
That must deprive us of our Joy,
And all Our future Peace destroy?
Sweet Fair Ones. though I tell this Story,
Upon my Word, I am no Tory;
In Spight of all tyrannic Tools,
I mean to follow Virtue’s Rules.
And now I pledge my Word, and say.
The Noble Congress I’ll obey.
Who maugre Power, Pride or Skill,
Dare to be free and virtuous still.
And you’ve a Month to make your Plea.
Concerning this same Idol, TEA.
Now, tho’ I send to let you know.
I have a hundred Weight, or so,
It is as good as e’er was tasted:
Then must all this be lost and wasted?
If a Market I should miss on’t.
Pray help me out, and buy a Dish on’t.
When March sets in, I vow at once,
A Joe shan’t purchase half and Ounce.
I’ll lock, and barr. and set a Spel1 on’t,
Nor shall a Mortal ever smell on’t.
Yet stop a Moment on my Life!
For now I think on’t, I’ve A Wife!
And if she proves of Eve the Daughter
To have a Kind of Hank’ring after
This noxious Herb, and when I’m gone.
With Ax or Hatchet. should lay on.
With Arm and Will, both bold and stout,
Should find this potent Poison out:
This Thought bewilders all my Sense.
For what would be the Consequence?
Then help us keep our virtue sound,
And quickly purchase ‘tother pound.
Fair Ladies, ’tis not very arch,
To talk about the first of March.
That woful day when each of ye.
Must leave your darling Nectar, TEA!
Your China, which attracts the Eye.
Like Lumber, must neglected lie:
And dearest Tea-Kettle’s harder Lot.
Must change him to a Porridge Pot.
But now, methinks I hear you say.
Sufficient is the evil Day.
Then why should you, with Raven’s Nose.
Anticipate the fatal Vote,
That must deprive us of our Joy,
And all Our future Peace destroy?
Sweet Fair Ones. though I tell this Story,
Upon my Word, I am no Tory;
In Spight of all tyrannic Tools,
I mean to follow Virtue’s Rules.
And now I pledge my Word, and say.
The Noble Congress I’ll obey.
Who maugre Power, Pride or Skill,
Dare to be free and virtuous still.
And you’ve a Month to make your Plea.
Concerning this same Idol, TEA.
Now, tho’ I send to let you know.
I have a hundred Weight, or so,
It is as good as e’er was tasted:
Then must all this be lost and wasted?
If a Market I should miss on’t.
Pray help me out, and buy a Dish on’t.
When March sets in, I vow at once,
A Joe shan’t purchase half and Ounce.
I’ll lock, and barr. and set a Spel1 on’t,
Nor shall a Mortal ever smell on’t.
Yet stop a Moment on my Life!
For now I think on’t, I’ve A Wife!
And if she proves of Eve the Daughter
To have a Kind of Hank’ring after
This noxious Herb, and when I’m gone.
With Ax or Hatchet. should lay on.
With Arm and Will, both bold and stout,
Should find this potent Poison out:
This Thought bewilders all my Sense.
For what would be the Consequence?
Then help us keep our virtue sound,
And quickly purchase ‘tother pound.
WILLIAM BEADLE
Wethersfield January 28th. 1775.
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