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But now I'm the mock
Of Flora's fair flock,
Nor dare I presume to complain;
But remember that I
Disasterly cry,
O were I a * Thistle again!
But remember that I, &c.
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WOMAN is a TRIFLE.
WOman, thoughtless, giddy creature;
laughing, idle flatt'ring thing?
Most fantastic work of nature,
still, like Fancy, on the wing.
Slave to ev'ry changing passion,
loving, hating, in extream;
Fond of ev'ry foolish fashion,
and, at best, a pleasing dream.
Lovely trifle I dear delusion!
conqu'ring weakness wish'd for pain!
Man's chief glory, and confusion,
of all vanities most vain.
Thus deriding Beauty's power,
Bevil call'd it all a cheat;
But in less than half an hour,
kneel'd and whin'd at Celia’s feet.
F I N I S.
