nothing say to me who tales relate;
          But oft on reason such proceedings wait. 
          If you a goddess love, advance she’ll make;
          Our belle the same advantages would take. 
          Her fortune, wit, and charm, attention drew,
          And many sparks would anxiously pursue;
          How happy he who should her heart obtain,
          And Hymen prove he had not sighed in vain! 
          But she had promised, to the modest youth,
          Who first was named, her confidence and truth;
          The little god of pleasing soft desire
          With full compliance with his whims require.

          THe belle was pleased the ’prentice to prefer: 
          A handsome lad with truth we may aver,
          Quite young, well made, with fascinating eye: 
          Such charms are ne’er despised we may rely,
          But treasures thought, no fair will e’er neglect;
          Whate’er her senses say, she’ll these respect. 
          For one that love lays hold of by the soul,
          A thousand by the eyes receive control.

          Thissprightly girl with soft endearing ease,
          Exerted ev’ry care the lad to please,
          To his regards she never shy appeared;
          Now pinched his arm, then smiled and often leered;
          Her hand across his eyes would sometimes put;
          At others try to step upon his foot. 
          To this he nothing offered in reply,
          Though oft his throbbing bosom heaved a sigh.

          So many tender scenes, at length we find,
          Produced the explanation love designed;
          The youthful couple, we may well believe,
          Would from each other mutual vows receive;
          They neither promises nor kisses spared,
          Incalculable were the numbers shared;
          If he had tried to keep exact account,
          He soon had been bewildered with th’ amount;
          To such infinity it clearly ran,
          Mistakes would rise if he pursued the plan;
          A ceremony solely was required,
          Which prudent girls have always much admired,
          Yet this to wait gave pain and made her grieve;
          From you, said she, the boon I would receive;
          Or while I live the rapture never know,
          That Hymen at his altar can bestow;
          To you I promise, by the pow’rs divine,
          My hand and heart I truly will resign. 
          Howe’er I’ll freely say, should Hymen fail
          To make me your’s and wishes not prevail,
          You must not fancy I’ll become a nun,
          Though much I hope to act as I’ve begun;
          To marry you would please me to the soul;
          But how can we the ruling pow’rs control? 
          Too much I’m confident you love my fame,