| |
| LET Cowley soft in amorous verse | |
| The rovings of his love rehearse, | |
| With passion most unruly, | |
| Boast how he woo’d sweet Amoret, | |
| The sobbing Jane, and sprightly Bet, | 5 |
| The lily fair and smart brunette, | |
| In sweet succession truly. | |
| |
| But list, ye lovers, and you ’ll swear, | |
| I roved with him beyond compare, | |
| And was far more unlucky. | 10 |
| For never yet in Yankee coast | |
| Were found such girls, who so could boast, | |
| An honest lover’s heart to roast, | |
| From Casco to Kentucky. | |
| |
| When first the girls nicknamed me beau, | 15 |
| And I was all for dress and show, | |
| I set me out a courting. | |
| A romping miss, with heedless art, | |
| First caught, then almost broke, my heart. | |
| Miss Conduct named; we soon did part, | 20 |
| I did not like such sporting. | |
| |
| The next coquette, who raised a flame, | |
| Was far more grave, and somewhat lame, | |
| She in my heart did rankle. | |
| She conquer’d, with a sudden glance: | 25 |
| The spiteful slut was call’d Miss Chance; | |
| I took the gipsy out to dance; | |
| She almost broke my ankle. | |
| |
| A thoughtless girl, just in her teens, | |
| Was the next fair, whom love it seems | 30 |
| Had made me prize most highly. | |
| I thought to court a lovely mate, | |
| But, how it made my heart to ache; | |
| It was that jade, the vile Miss Take; | |
| In troth, love did it slyly. | 35 |
| |
| And last Miss Fortune, whimpering came, | |
| Cured me of love’s tormenting flame, | |
| And all my beau pretences. | |
| In widow’s weeds, the prude appears; | |
| See now—she drowns me with her tears, | 40 |
| With bony fist, now slaps my ears, | |
| And brings me to my senses. | |
| |
