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.
On A Patched Face (An Homage To General Fairfax)
(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.