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Charming
oysters I cry:
My masters, come buy,
So plump and
so fresh,
So sweet is their flesh,
No Colchester
oyster
Is sweeter and moister:
Your stomach they
settle,
And rouse up your mettle:
They'll make you
a dad
Of a lass or a lad;
And madam your wife
They'll please to the life;
Be she barren, be she
old,
Be she slut, or be she scold,
Eat my oysters,
and lie near her,
She'll be fruitful, never fear her.
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