A Nymph:
When I have often heard young Maids complaining,
That when Men promise most they most deceive,
The I thought none of them worthy of my gaining;
And what they Swore, resolv'd ne're to believe.
But when so humbly he made his Addresses,
With Looks so soft, and with Language so kind,
I thought it Sin to refuse his Caresses;
Nature o'ercame, and I soon chang'd my Mind.
Should he employ all his wit in deceiving,
Stretch his Invention, and artfully feign;
I find such Charms, such true Joy in believing,
I'll have the Pleasure, let him have the Pain.
If he proves Perjur'd, I shall not be Cheated,
He may deceive himself, but never me;
'Tis what I look for, and shan't be defeated,
For I'll be as false and inconstant as he.
A Thousand Thousand ways we'll find
To Entertain the Hours;
No Two shall e're be known so kind,
No Life so Blest as ours.
Een nimf:
Omdat ik vaak jonge meiden heb horen klagen,
dat mannen meestal bedriegen wanneer zij veel beloven,
dacht ik dat geen van hen de moeite van het veroveren waard was;
en ik was vast besloten niet te geloven wat zij zworen.
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