2.
Since your _beautiful_ maid, Your flame has repaid, No more I your folly regret; She's now most divine, And I bow at the shrine, Of this quickly reformed coquette.
3.
Yet still, I must own, [i]
I should never have known, From _your verses_, what else she deserv'd; Your pain seem'd so great, I pitied your fate, As your fair was so dev'lish reserv'd.
4.
Since the balm-breathing kiss [ii]
Of this magical Miss, Can such wonderful transports produce; [iii]
Since the _"world you forget, When your lips once have met,"_ My counsel will get but abuse.
5.
You say, "When I rove,"
"I know nothing of love;"
Tis true, I am given to range; If I rightly remember, _I've lov'd_ a good number; [iv]
Yet there's pleasure, at least, in a change.
6.
I will not advance, [v]
By the rules of romance, To humour a whimsical fair; Though a smile may delight, Yet a _frown_ will _affright,_ [vi]
Or drive me to dreadful despair.
7.
While my blood is thus warm, I ne'er shall reform, To mix in the Platonists' school; Of this I am sure, Was my Passion so pure, Thy _Mistress_ would think me a fool. [vii]
8 [viii]
And if I should shun, Every _woman_ for _one,_ Whose _image_ must fill my whole breast; Whom I must _prefer,_ And _sigh_ but for _her,_ What an _insult_ 'twould be to the _rest!_
9.
Now Strephon, good-bye; I cannot deny, Your _passion_ appears most _absurd;_ Such _love_ as you plead, Is _pure_ love, indeed, For it _only_ consists in the _word_.
[Footnote 1: The letters "J. M. B. P." are added, in a lady's hand, in the annotated copy of 'P. on V. Occasions', p. 17 (British Museum).]
[Footnote i: 'But still'. [4to]]
[Footnote ii: 'But since the chaste kiss.' [4to]]
[Footnote iii: 'Such wonderful.' [4to]]
[Footnote iv:
'I've kiss'd a good number.
But-----'
[4to]]
[Footnote v:
'I ne'er will advance.'
[4to]]
[Footnote vi:
'Yet a frown won't affright.'
[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions.']]
[Footnote vii:
'My mistress must think me.'
[4to. 'P. on V. Occasions.']]
[Footnote viii:
'Though the kisses are sweet, Which voluptuously meet, Of kissing I ne'er was so fond, As to make me forget, Though our lips oft have met, That still there was something beyond.'
[4to]