I. To One Fair Lady Out Of Court, And Two Fair Ladies In, Who Think The Turk And Pope A Sport, And Wit And Love No Sin! Come, These Soft Lines, With Nothing Stiff In, To Bellenden, Lepell, And Griffin. With A Fa, La, La. Ii. What Passes In The Dark Third Row, And What Behind The Scene, Couches And Crippled Chairs I Know, And Garrets Hung With Green; I Know The Swing Of Sinful Hack, Where Many Damsels Cry Alack. With A Fa, La, La. Iii. Then Why To Courts Should I Repair, Where's Such Ado With Townsend? To Hear Each Mortal Stamp And Swear, And Every Speech With "Zounds" End; To Hear Them Rail At Honest Sunderland, And Rashly Blame The Realm Of Blunderland. With A Fa, La, La. Iv. Alas! Like Schutz I Cannot Pun, Like Grafton Court The Germans; Tell Pickenbourg How Slim SHe's Grown, Like Meadows Run To Sermons; To Court Ambitious Men May Roam, But I And Marlbro' Stay At Home. With A Fa, La, La. V. In Truth, By What I Can Discern, Of Courtiers, 'Twixt You Three, Some Wit You Have, And More May Learn From Court, Than Gay Or Me: Perhaps, In Time, You'll Leave High Diet, To Sup With Us On Milk And Quiet. With A Fa, La, La. Vi. At Leicester Fields, A House Full Nigh, With Door All Painted Green, (A Milliner, I Mean); There May You Meet Us Three To Three, For Gay Can Well Make Two Of Me. With A Fa, La, La. Vii. But Should You Catch The Prudish Itch, And Each Become A Coward, Bring Sometimes With You Lady Rich, And Sometimes Mistress Howard; For Virgins, To Keep Chaste, Must Go Abroad With Such As Are Not So. With A Fa, La, La. Viii. And Thus, Fair Maids, My Ballad Ends; God Send The King Safe Landing; And Make All Honest Ladies Friends To Armies That Are Standing; Preserve The Limits Of Those Nations, And Take Off Ladies' Limitations. With A Fa, La, La.