:jgi' poETRy. 139 



Or, by the jing, I'll be her fentry, - 



Whene'er £he fteals off to the pantry. 



I hate malevolence and pride, 



Tho' wealth fits dangling by her fide. 



Keep far from me a damfel flupid, 



Or make me deaf, thou devil Cupid 1 



Nor give, to make me moll unhappy. 



The lafs whom Scotfmen call a taupy. 



I want not paffion ever blind, 



Nor one who leaves her fex behind. 



Tho' bleft with millions — what are riches. 



If I muft feel flie wears the breeches? 



Send me a pair of eagle's wings. 



To fliuii thofe who fliun facred things. 



That heart muft be devoid of good. 



Who flies from heaven and gratitude. 



But fhe who taftes of love divine. 



Sure never could prove falfe to mine. 



Keep to yourfelves Mifs Affeftation, 



Or flie who flights for provocation ; 



Like yonder beauty, lo ! fhe comes ; 



A murmur haftens thro' the rooms ; 



Look at the pretty fmirking creature. 



Well placing ev'ry ihadowy feature ; 



For 'lis the glafs that gives her art. 



And paint and patches make her fmart ; 



Behold file fmiles — now fcarce is civil — 



The angel now — and now the devil. 



On all Ihe deals fome mark of favour. 



The puppies gape, but none will have her : 



Her lot will be, if married, cares ; 



If not, the jilt muft wall: up ftairs, 



And take her ftocking, priply fitting, 



And mind her monkey or her kitten. 



The fly coquet whom grace adorns. 



Would fill my dreams with horns, horns, horns. 



■Give me no languid fqueamifh creature, 



Wearied for ay, reverfe of nature : 



But let me choofe — Tlie girl for me, 



Muft lucar auld-fajhioti'd modefty ; 



