Classic Poem

Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you?
Our couch shall be roses all spangled with dew.
Tommy Moore, Tommy Moore, I'll be hang'd if I do,
It would give me a cough, and a rheumatise too.
The girl who is prudent, I take it would rather
Repose (tho' alone) upon horsehair or feather.
Poor Peggy O'Corcoran listened to some
Who sang in her ear, Will you come? Will you come?
She swells and she squaddles . . so what I suppose is
She must have been lying one day upon roses.