You've heard of my Lady BUNBUTTER, no doubt,
How she loves an  or
No Lady in  is half so expert
At a snug private Party, her Friends to divert;
But they say, that of late, she's grown sick of the Town,
And often to  condescends to come down:
Her Ladyship's favourite House is the
Her Chariot, and Servants, and Horses are there:
My Lady declares that  is good;
As all, with a separate Maintenance, should;
For when you have put out the conjugal Fire,
'Tis Time for all sensible Folk to retire;
If HYMEN no longer his Fingers will scorch,
Little CUPID for others can whip in his Torch,
So pert is he grown; since the Custom began,
To be married and parted as quick as you can.