Meeting and parting without joy or pain,
He seem’d to come that he might go again. 
   The wondering girl, no prude, but something nice,
At length was chill’d by his unmelting ice;
She found her tortoise held such sluggish pace,
That she must turn and meet him in the chase: 
This not approving, she withdrew, till one
Came who appear’d with livelier hope to run;
Who sought a readier way the heart to move,
Than by faint dalliance of unfixing love. 
   Accuse me not that I approving paint
Impatient Hope or Love without restraint;
Or think the Passions, a tumultuous throng,
Strong as they are, ungovernably strong: 
But is the laurel to the soldier due,
Who, cautious, comes not into danger’s view? 
What worth has Virtue by Desire untried,
When Nature’s self enlists on Duty’s side? 
   The married dame in vain assail’d the truth
And guarded bosom of the Hebrew youth;
But with the daughter of the Priest of On
The love was lawful, and the guard was gone;
But Joseph’s fame had lessened in our view,
Had he, refusing, fled the maiden too. 
   Yet our good priest to Joseph’s praise aspired,
As once rejecting what his heart desired;
“I am escaped,” he said, when none pursued;
When none attack’d him, “I am unsubdued;”
“Oh pleasing pangs of love!” he sang again,
Cold to the joy, and stranger to the pain. 
E’en in his age would he address the young,
“I too have felt these fires, and they are strong;”
But from the time he left his favourite maid,
To ancient females his devoirs were paid: 
And still they miss him after Morning-prayer;
Nor yet successor fills the Vicar’s chair,
Where kindred spirits in his praise agree,
A happy few, as mild and cool as he;
The easy followers in the female train,
Led without love, and captives without chain. 
   Ye Lilies male! think (as your tea you sip,
While the town small-talk flows from lip to lip;
Intrigues half-gather’d, conversation-scraps,
Kitchen cabals, and nursery-mishaps),
If the vast world may not some scene produce,
Some state where your small talents might have use;
Within seraglios you might harmless move,
’Mid ranks of beauty, and in haunts of love;
There from too daring man the treasures guard,
An easy duty, and its own reward;
Nature’s soft substitutes, you there might save
From crime the tyrant, and from wrong the slave. 
   But let applause be dealt in all we may,
Our Priest was cheerful, and in season gay;
His frequent visits seldom fail’d to please;
Easy himself, he sought his neighbour’s ease: 
To a small garden with delight he came,
And gave successive flowers a summer’s fame;
These he presented, with a grace his own,
To his fair friends, and made their beauties known,
Not without moral compliment; how they
“Like flowers were sweet, and must like flowers decay.’ 
   Simple he was, and loved the simple