The Rat

"That woman there is almost dead,

Her feet and hands like heavy lead;

Her cat's gone out for his delight,

He will not come again this night.

"Her husband in a pothouse drinks,

Her daughter at a soldier winks;

Her son is at his sweetest game,

Teasing the cobbler old and lame.

"Now with these teeth that powder stones,

I'll pick at one of her cheekbones:

When husband, son and daughter come,

They'll soon see who was left at home."