In some papers attached to the archives of Babbitt’s Company of Horse, the following doggerel was discovered. It has been annotated in at least two different hands and appears to have been made into a paper dart at some point judging by the folds.

(Fromage’d be better. I reckon. Least you can eat fromage – H.)

Some plain men say ‘tis out of fashion
Whilst living ‘neath a rustic roof
To have for unmarked skin a passion
And stand out for their beauty’s truth                                                          

Yet others say ‘tis finer far
To have a most distinctive flaw
A pimple, say, or else a scar (didn’t know you fancied HIM? – H.)
To bow the neck to Nature’s law

But I say this: tis each man’s choice
To mark a different thing the higher
A well-placed freckle or melting voice
A fine fat bum, or neat attire (JESUS LUCIFER WHAT?? - H.)

For this is true, as my name's Lucey,
Beggars cannot be too choosy.

A different author has attempted to edit this at some later point, presumably during the Interregnum period due to the nature of the comments which reflect a distinctly Puritan perspective, being neither complimentary to poets nor flattering to their morals.