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1704: The Author Then Forty
LOVES, knights and squires, the numerous band | |
| That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, | |
| Were summoned by her high command, | |
| To show their passions by their letters. | |
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| My pen among the rest I took, | 5 |
| Lest those bright eyes that cannot read | |
| Should dart their kindling fires, and look | |
| The power they have to be obey’d. | |
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| Not quality, nor reputation, | |
| Forbid me yet my flame to tell, | 10 |
| Dear five-years-old befriends my passion | |
| And I may write till she can spell. | |
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| For, while she makes her silkworms’ beds | |
| With all the tender things I swear; | |
| Whilst all the house my passion reads, | 15 |
| In papers round her baby’s hair; | |
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| She may receive and own my flame, | |
| For, though the strictest prudes should know it, | |
| She ’ll pass for a most virtuous dame, | |
| And I for an unhappy poet. | 20 |
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| Then too alas! when she shall tear | |
| The rhymes some younger rival sends; | |
| She ’ll give me leave to write, I fear, | |
| And we shall still continue friends. | |
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| For, as our different ages move, | 25 |
| ’T is so ordained, (would Fate but mend it!) | |
| That I shall be past making love, | |
| When she begins to comprehend it. | |
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