Undying thirst
J. Duke
This rudely sculptur'd porter-pot
Denotes where sleeps a female sot
Who pass'd her life, good easy soul!
In sweetly chirping o'er her bowl.
Not for her friends or children dear
She mourns -- but only for her beer.
E'en in the very grave, they say,
She thirsts for drink to wet her clay;
And, faith, she thinks it very wrong
This jug should stand unfill'd so long.