1.
In a maiden time professed,
Then we say that life is best.
Tasting once the married life,
Then we only praise the wife.
There’s but one state more to try
Which makes women laugh or cry:
Widow, widow, of these three,
The middle’s best, and that give me.
2.
Cupid is an idle toy.
Never was there such a boy.
If there were, let any show
Or his quiver or his bow
Or a wound by him they got
Or a broken arrow-shot.
Money, money makes us bow.
There is no other Cupid now.
3.
Whilst the world continued good
People loved for flesh and blood.
Men about them bore the dart
That would catch a woman’s heart.
Women likewise, great and small,
With a pretty thing they call
Cunny, cunny, won the men,
And this was all the Cupid then.