Whilom in Kent there liv'd a jolly Swain,
Young Colinet, the Genius of the Plain;
Sonnets he wrote, could sing and whistle well
Crack witty Jokes, and merry Stories tell;
At Wakes and Weddings always led the Dance,
And drew from every Lass the wishful Glance;
Courteous he was, and skilful to perswade;
Soon to his Lures he won the Parsons Maid;
He married, and (O mournful to relate!)
Grew a meer Tyrant in the nuptial State;
Assum'd Dominion o'er his trembling Wife,
And prov'd a very Husband all his Life;
No more as once he charm'd her list'ning Ear,
Call'd her no more, my Honey, and my Dear;
But daily, from his Work, returning Home,
With dreadful Oaths and Curses shook the Room;
To ev'ry humble Question he'd reply,
You saucy B---tch, G---d d------n you, what care I?
No Answer would the frowning Churl afford,
But snapt the Woman short at ev'ry Word;
When to the Alehouse, from his Pipe and Pot,
She came to fetch the drunken midnight Sot;
Out of the House, he cry'd, be gone! away!
And reeling, stammer'd in her Ears, Obey!
Then shook the Crab--tree Cudgel in his Hand
The well--known Ensign of his stern Command.

Tir'd out at Length with this vexatious Course,
And finding ev'ry Day that it grew worse,
She vow'd, grown desp'rate, to revenge her Wrong,
And bear no longer what she bore so long;
To a brisk, neighb'ring Barber she apply'd,
With all my Heart, the gallant Barber cry'd:
Now whilst Abroad the Tyrant--bumpkin roams,
With silent Haste the watchful Lecher comes;
Her welcome Guest the injur'd Wife receives,
And for politer Work her Spinning leaves,
Up Stairs she leads him, springs into his Arms,
And fir'd with Transport, opens all her Charms:
Now, Colly, triumph now, in Scorn she said,
Proud of the Honours that adorn thy Head.

Three Times the pleasing Vengeance they repeat,
And with becoming Horns the Brute compleat.