1.

Your pardon, my friend,

If my rhymes did offend,

Your pardon, a thousand times o'er;

From friendship I strove,

Your pangs to remove,

But, I swear, I will do so no more.

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 reformèd coquette.

3.

Yet still, I must own a ,

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 b

Of this magical Miss,

Can such wonderful transports produce c ;

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 d ;

Yet there's pleasure, at least, in a change.

6.

I will not advance e ,

By the rules of romance,

To humour a whimsical fair;

Though a smile may delight,

Yet a frown will affright f ,

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 g .

8 h

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.