Verses Made For Fruit-women Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCCDDEFGG H HHHID H JJJKKDDLLMMNKKN H OOPPKKQQRRSSTTKK H IIIUUVVWW| APPLES | A |
| - | |
| Come buy my fine wares | B |
| Plums apples and pears | B |
| A hundred a penny | C |
| In conscience too many | C |
| Come will you have any | C |
| My children are seven | D |
| I wish them in Heaven | D |
| My husband a sot | E |
| With his pipe and his pot | F |
| Not a farthing will gain them | G |
| And I must maintain them | G |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| ASPARAGUS | H |
| - | |
| Ripe 'sparagrass | H |
| Fit for lad or lass | H |
| To make their water pass | H |
| O 'tis pretty picking | I |
| With a tender chicken | D |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| ONIONS | H |
| - | |
| - | |
| Come follow me by the smell | J |
| Here are delicate onions to sell | J |
| I promise to use you well | J |
| They make the blood warmer | K |
| You'll feed like a farmer | K |
| For this is every cook's opinion | D |
| No savoury dish without an onion | D |
| But lest your kissing should be spoil'd | L |
| Your onions must be thoroughly boil'd | L |
| Or else you may spare | M |
| Your mistress a share | M |
| The secret will never be known | N |
| She cannot discover | K |
| The breath of her lover | K |
| But think it as sweet as her own | N |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| OYSTERS | H |
| - | |
| Charming oysters I cry | O |
| My masters come buy | O |
| So plump and so fresh | P |
| So sweet is their flesh | P |
| No Colchester oyster | K |
| Is sweeter and moister | K |
| Your stomach they settle | Q |
| And rouse up your mettle | Q |
| They'll make you a dad | R |
| Of a lass or a lad | R |
| And madam your wife | S |
| They'll please to the life | S |
| Be she barren be she old | T |
| Be she slut or be she scold | T |
| Eat my oysters and lie near her | K |
| She'll be fruitful never fear her | K |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| HERRINGS | H |
| - | |
| Be not sparing | I |
| Leave off swearing | I |
| Buy my herring | I |
| Fresh from Malahide | U |
| Better never was tried | U |
| Come eat them with pure fresh butter and mustard | V |
| Their bellies are soft and as white as a custard | V |
| Come sixpence a dozen to get me some bread | W |
| Or like my own herrings I soon shall be dead | W |
Jonathan Swift
(1)
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About Verses Made For Fruit-women
Verses Made For Fruit-women is a poem by Jonathan Swift. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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