To all Pretty young Girls, by a late sawcy Pen,
Expos'd to an Auction as Matches for Men,
Who to Lincolns-Inn-Walks, and the Park make their Pace
To shew their fine Cloaths, but their much finer Faces,
And who frequently ('cause they can do nothing else)
With their Presence do Honour fam'd Islington-Wells.
To all Ladies whose Portions are Thousands a Piece,
From my Lord's youngest Daughter to Aldermans Niece
Who go thither as oft as Occasion requires,
To Cool their young Bloods and Inflame their Desires.
To all sorts of Wives (but most chiefly the Young)
Who each Morning in Clusters to Islington Throng,
And Drink VVaters, as most Men the story believe,
To render their Bodies more apt to Conceive;
Tho both Antient and Modern agree in the Matter.
That a Chopping young Heir was ne're got by thin Water
But Opinion's the Standard of all things below,
If she proves but with Child, let the Father guess How;
For however we banter an Implicit Faith,
We are bound to believe what our Bed-fellow saith.
To all fine Dressing Beaus with their sparkish Long Wigs,
To all brisk Lawyers Clerks, and pert City young Prigs,
Who having fine Cloaths must go thither to shew em,
Is humbly Presented
This following Poem.