I am the Poet Davies, William,
  I sin without a blush or blink:
I am a man that lives to eat;
  I am a man that lives to drink.

My face is large, my lips are thick,
  My skin is coarse and black almost;
But the ugliest feature is my verse,
  Which proves my soul is black and lost.

Thank heaven thou didst not marry me,
  A poet full of blackest evil;
For how to manage my damned soul
  Will puzzle many a flaming devil.