Impudent Jack, who now lives by his Shifts, Borrowing of Driblets, boldly begging Gifts, For Twenty Shillings lent him t'other Day, (By one who ne'er expected he would pay,) On his Friend's Paper fain a Note wou'd write; His Friend, as needless, did refuse it quite; Paper was scarce, and 'twas too hard, it's true, To part with Cash, and lose his Paper too. On his Death-bed poor Lubin lies; His Spouse is in Despair; Don't misinform your Doctor nor your Lawyer. I never saw an oft-transplanted tree, Nor yet an oft-removed family, That throve so well as those that settled be. Viz: