To the same. Written at Fern-Hill, while dinner was waiting for her. Mary Jones Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T115196 Jones, Mary, d. 1778. Miscellanies in Prose and Verse. By Mary Jones. Oxford Printed; and delivered by Mr. Dodsley in Pall-Mall, Mr. Clements in Oxford, and Mr. Frederick in Bath, MDCCL. 1750 pp. 68-70. vi,[1],xlv,[1],405p.

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To the same . Written at Fern-Hill , Her father's seat in Windsor Forest . while dinner was waiting for her . In imitation of modern Pastoral . I. Haste , Charlot , haste ; and come away , For John his cloth ere long must lay . Come , left the dinner should be spoil'd , The beef's already too much boil'd ; The very turkey on the spit Cries out , make haste and pick a bit . Cook's rage and soup have each boil'd o'er , And thrice the wicked creature swore . Then , Charlot , haste , and come away , For dinner will no longer stay . II . Hungry I am , 'tis true , and cold ; Yet ne'ertheless should I be told , That dinner's on the table set , And thou not come from Denham Seat of Sir William Bowyer . yet ; Tho' hungry as a horse I be , And twice as cold as charity , Yet hear me , Charlot , when I swear , That very dinner I'd forbear : And may I feel thy utmost ire , If I'd go near the smallest fire . Then , Charlot haste and come away , For hunger's sharp , and will not stay . III . Didst thou but know , how Puss and I Together for thy presence sigh , Together for thy absence mourn , In murm'ring sounds for thy return ; Thou surely woud'st pack up thy awls , And hear at least , when D'oman The Cat's name . calls . Nay more , the Major bid me say , That he impatient at thy stay , Had mounted Crop , and jogg'd away . Then Charlot , haste , out strip the wind , Lest love grow deaf , as well as blind . IV . Sarah in vain has scrubb'd your room , Her gentle mistress is not come ; In vain clean linnen she has spread , Upon your spotless virgin bed . Thrice has she tumbled up the stairs , And that's good luck the maid avers . But yet , I ween , we're ne'er the near , If Charlot's deaf , and will not hear . Puss slighted and abandon'd may Sit purring all the live-long day : Sarah may tumble up or down , May break a limb , or soil her gown : The Major too , in doleful dump , May take the faithful lover's jump : And I may starve , without relief — But see , she comes ! — John , bring the beef .