Classic Poem

Tell me Sileno , why you fill
With fancy'd Woes your Life,
Why's all your Time expended still,
In Thinking, or in Talking ill,
Of your too virtuous Wife?

For faith, I can't see to what end,
You keep her up so close;
Nor how you cou'd your self offend,
That like a Snail, my gloomy Friend,
You never leave your House.

Ah! Were she but advis'd by me,
Her many Taunts and Scorns,
With Int'rest shou'd refunded be,
She'd make a perfect Snail of thee,
By decking thee with Horns,