Her Heels kiss'd the ground, and up flew her Leggs, Down came her Basket, and broke all her Eggs; There lay her Pigs, her Chickens, her Lambs, She could not have young ones unless she had Dams; Thus Fortune did frown by a fall that she catcht, Her Chickens prov'd Addle, before they were Hatcht: Attend but a while, and I'le briefly declare, Bad fortune did likewise fall to the Man's share. And now the Man to the Market will go, To see what Dame Nature on him will bestow; He bought him five Eggs, thinking to Thrive, And thus did the business finely contrive; Said he, if these Eggs five Cocks they will frame, And most of them prove to be Cocks of the Game, So soon as their Spurs are long enough grown, Then I may ingross a Cock Pit of my own. [Illustration] Then may I have Gallants of every sort, Both Lords, Knights and Squires, and all to see sport, If they Fight bravely these Gallants to please, I may come to get Means by the rearing of these: And when I have done, I'll get me a rich Wife, That I may live happy all days of my Life; And in the Church we will be loving matcht, But count not your Chickens before they are Hatcht. And when he came home he set his Eggs by, He could not get up, the Roost was so high; But fetching a Ladder, that unhappy time, It was his hard luck with his Eggs for to Climb; These Ladders prove fatal to many a Man, And are undone by them now and then; So was this poor Man undone by a Fall, Down comes the Basket, Man, Eggs and all. There lay the poor Man with a fall almost Lame, His Cock-Pits and Gallants, and Cocks of the Game; The loosing of this grieved him to the Life, Yet the grief it was more in the loss of his Wife; All you young Men live vertuous Lives, And think to get Portions now by your Wives; Take warning by me before you are Matcht, _Pray count not your Chickens before they be Hatcht_. FINIS. Printed for _P. Brooksby_ at the _Golden Ball_ in _Pye Corner_ near _West Smithfield_. [17.] In _Ireland_, a Bag-piper coming for _England_ with his Snapsack on his shoulder, as he sate at dinner in a wood, three Wolves began to accost him; then he threw one bread, and another meat, and still they crept nearer to him; Upon which, being afraid, he took his bagpipes and began to play, at which noise the Wolves all ran away: A pox take you, says he, If I had known you had loved Musick so well, you should have had it before dinner.