1.

Why, Pigot, complain

Of this damsel's disdain,

Why thus in despair do you fret?

For months you may try,

Yet, believe me, a sigh a

Will never obtain a coquette.

2.

Would you teach her to love?

For a time seem to rove;

At first she may frown in a pet;

But leave her awhile,

She shortly will smile,

And then you may kiss your coquette.

3.

For such are the airs

Of these fanciful fairs,

They think all our homage a debt:

Yet a partial neglect b

Soon takes an effect,

And humbles the proudest coquette.

4.

Dissemble your pain,

And lengthen your chain,

And seem her hauteur to regret c ;

If again you shall sigh,

She no more will deny,

That yours is the rosy coquette.

5.

If still, from false pride d ,

Your pangs she deride,

This whimsical virgin forget;

Some other admire,

Who will melt with your fire,

And laugh at the little coquette.

6.

For me, I adore

Some twenty or more,

And love them most dearly; but yet,

Though my heart they enthral,

I'd abandon them all,

Did they act like your blooming coquette.

7.

No longer repine,

Adopt this design e ,

And break through her slight-woven net!

Away with despair,

No longer forbear

To fly from the captious coquette.

8.

Then quit her, my friend!

Your bosom defend,

Ere quite with her snares you're beset:

Lest your deep-wounded heart,

When incens'd by the smart,

Should lead you to curse the coquette.

October 27, 1806 f .