Classic Poem

Were none of you gallants e'er driven so hard,
As when the poor kind soul was under guard,
And could not do 't at home, in some by-street
To take a lodging, and in private meet?
Such is our case: we can't appoint our house,
The lovers' old and wonted rendezvous,
But hither to this trusty nook remove;
The worse the lodging is, the more the love.
For much good pastime, many a dear sweet hug,
Is stol'n in garrets on the humble rug.
Here's good accommodation in the pit;
The grave demurely in the midst may sit,
And so the hot Burgundian on the side
Ply vizard-mask, and o'er the benches stride:
Here are convenient upper boxes too
For those that make the most triumphant show;
All that keep coaches must not sit below.
There, gallants, you betwixt the acts retire,
And at dull plays have something to admire;
We, who look up, can your addresses mark,
And see the creatures coupled in the ark:
So we expect the lovers, braves , and wits ;
The gaudy house with scenes will serve for cits .