LXIII.

Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"

And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and off-ing

On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow—

Then sees your heart wrecked, with an inward scoffing.

This works a world of sentimental woe,[LQ]And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin;

But yet is merely innocent flirtation,

Not quite adultery, but adulteration.

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