Poor Mary Toft in Ignorance was bred,
   And ne'er betray'd a deep designing head,
   Ne'er did seem cut out for plots; Yet never did Wife,
   Like her impose so grossly on Man Midwife,
   Who scorning Reason common sense and Nature,
   Plac'd all their faith in such a stupid Creature.

   When I [Mary Toft] five weeks was gone with Child,
   And hard at work was weeding in the field,
   Up starts a rabbit—to my grief I viewed it,
   And vainly though with eagerness pursued it,
   The effect was strange—blest is the womb that's barren
   For that can near be made a coney [rabbit] warren.

   The rabbit all day long ran in my head,
   At night I dreamt I had him in my bed;
   Me thought he there a burrow tried to make
   His head I patted and stroked his back.
   My Husband waked me and cried [Mary] for shame