Alas! regardless of their doom. The lovely victims rove ; No sense of sufferings yet to come Can now their prudence move: But fee! where all around them wait The minifters of female fate, An artful, perjur'd, cruel train; Ah! fhew them where in ambush stand To seize their prey, the faithless band Of falfe deceitful men! These shall the luft of gaming wear, That harpy of the mind, With all the troop of rage and fear, That follows close behind: Or pining love fhall wafte their youth, Or jealoufy, with rankling tooth, That gnaws bright Hymen's golden chain, Who opens wide the fatal gate, For fad diftruft and ruthless hate, And forrow's pallid train. Ambition this fhall tempt to fix Her hopes on fomething high, To barter, for a coach and fix, Her peace and liberty. The ftings of fcandal these shall try, And affectation's haughty eye, That fcowls on those it us'd to greet, The cutting fneer, th' abusive song, And falfe report, that glides along, With never-refting feet. And These aid from quacks, and cordials beg, While this, transform'd by folly's hand, Remains a-while at her command A tea-pot, or an egg. To each her fuff'rings: all must grieve, At homage others charms receive, Or flights that meet their own: --- [H 5] But |