Upon Crab. Epig.

Shark, when he goes to any public feast,
Eats to one's thinking, of all there, the least.
What saves the master of the house thereby
When if the servants search, they may descry
In his wide codpiece, dinner being done,
Two napkins cramm'd up, and a silver spoon?

Cob clouts his shoes, and, as the story tells,
His thumb nails par'd afford him sparrables.

Rook he sells feathers, yet he still doth cry
Fie on this pride, this female vanity.
Thus, though the Rook does rail against the sin,
He loves the gain that vanity brings in.

Groynes, for his fleshly burglary of late,
Stood in the holy forum candidate;
The word is Roman; but in English known:
Penance, and standing so, are both but one.

Skinns, he dined well to-day: how do you think?
His nails they were his meat, his rheum the drink.

For ropes of pearl, first Madam Ursly shows
A chain of corns picked from her ears and toes;
Then, next, to match Tradescant's curious shells,
Nails from her fingers mew'd she shows: what else?
Why then, forsooth, a carcanet is shown
Of teeth, as deaf as nuts, and all her own.