Verses from Shakespeare + 

To Mrs. Anne, Regular Servant to the Rev. Mr. Precentor of York + 

A moment’s patience, gentle Mistress Anne; + 

(But stint your clack for sweet St. Charitie) + 

’Tis Willy begs, once a right proper man, + 

Though now a book, and interleaved you see. + 

Much have I borne from cankered critic’s spite, + 

From fumbling baronets and poets small, + 

Pert barristers, and parsons nothing bright, + 

But what awaits me now is worst of all. + 

’Tis true, our master’s temper natural + 

Was fashioned fair in meek and dove-like guise; + 

But may not honey’s self be turned to gall + 

By residence, by marriage, and sore eyes? + 

If then he wreak on me his wicked will; + 

Steal to his closet at the hour of prayer; + 

And (when thou hear’st the organ piping shrill) + 

Grease his best pen, and all he scribbles, tear. + 

Better to bottom tarts and cheesecakes nice, + 

Better the roast meat from the fire to save, + 

Better be twisted into caps for spice, + 

Than thus be patched and cobbled in one’s grave. + 

So York shall taste what Clouet never knew, + 

So from our works sublimer fumes shall rise; + 

While Nancy earns the praise to Shakespeare due, + 

For glorious puddings and immortal pies. + 