ONIONS

Come, follow me by the smell,

Here are delicate onions to sell;

I promise to use you well.

They make the blood warmer,

You'll feed like a farmer;

For this is every cook's opinion,

No savoury dish without an onion;

But, lest your kissing should be spoil'd,

Your onions must be thoroughly boil'd:

Or else you may spare

Your mistress a share,

The secret will never be known:

She cannot discover

The breath of her lover,

But think it as sweet as her own.