A Very False Man

My hair? Well, indeed, I am not such a prig
As to wish to conceal that I’m wearing a wig.

One eye’s out plumb and I look like a fright?
Perhaps I have not put the glass one in right.

My teeth? Oh, well, there now, dare if you can
My dentist the right to be called a skilled man.

My left hand’s too rigid – must be quite a tax!
Quite so, it’s as stiff as the price of – tis wax.

One leg is much bent? Well I thought it well known
That cork legs are not quite as good as your own.

What have I, you ask, that has naught false about it?
An APPETITE! Ask me to dine if you doubt it!