CYNTHIA frowns whene'er I woo her,
Yet she’s vex'd if I give over.
Much she fears I should undo her,
But much more to lose her lover;
Thus in doubting she refuses,
And not winning thus she loses.
Prithee. Cynthia, look behind you.
Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you;
Then too late, desire will'find you.
When the power must forsake you.
Think upon the sad condition
To be past, yet wish fruition.