.Nw.OTE2

[Jennifer J. Leong Cardwell, j_leongcardwell@yahoo.com, transcription July 2017] And swear by Styx, and all the powers below In good old heathen days twas never so. Ah! what avails it, that in days of yore Th' instructive [cashes?] of the brick I bore! For four long years with logic stuff'd my head And feeding thought went supperless to bed, Since you with whom my lot afloat is thrown (O elegance of taste to land unknown) Superior reverences to the man refuse [note: "refuse" being used as modifier "the wasted man"] Who mends your morals, than who mends your shoes. But Crispin [note: literary reference to "shoemaker"] saves your purse you answer. True. [note: "True." faded] Nor does your friend with[ou]t his offerings Sue; Whenever compelled to use the fragrant hole In some bye [note: meaning "out of the way"] nook I'll leave a moral scrowl; The moral scrowl who next succeeds may reach, And to his brains apply it, on his breach, Thus shall your finger find a just excuse And one Sea Chaplain boasts his works of use. And as yourselves from time to time repair To drop the relicts of digestion there. Sh'll may your Pork as easy exit gain Nor make you from one ugly glare in vain Sh'll may your flip refin'd to amber flow In streams salubrious to the brine below; Nor ever in too hot a current hiss But may all holes prove innocent like this; Thus grant my suit ( as grant unhurt yon may your Chaplain then, (with[ou]t flour groats) will pray (a centered line of forward slashes in pairs, for a total of 11, and cut across the middle by tilde-like characters to denote the end of the entry.)