The Old Fumbler

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Smug, Rich and fantastic old Fumbler was known,
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That wedded a Juicy brisk girl of the town.
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Her face like an angel, fair, plump, and a maid,
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Her lute well in tune too, could he but have played.
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But lost was his skill, let him do what he can,
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She finds him in bed a weak silly old man.
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He coughs in her ear, "'tis in vain to go on,
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Forgive me, my dear, I'm a silly old man."

[Verse 2]
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She laid his dry hand on her snowy soft breast,
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And from those white Hills gave a glimpse of the rest.
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But ah! what is Age when our Youth's but a span,
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She found him an infant instead of a man,
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"Ah! Pardon," he sighed "that I'm weary so soon,
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You have let down my Base, I'm no longer in Tune!
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Lay by the dear Instrument, prithee lie still,
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I can play but one Lesson, and that I play ill."