The works of Mr. Thomas Brown Serious and Comical, In Prose and Verse; In four volumes. The Fourth Edition, Corrected, and much Enlarged from his Originals never before publish'd. With a key to all his Writings |
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 | The works of Mr. Thomas Brown |  |
The Rover. A Song.
I
I hate the Dotard, that restrainsHimself to one. Give me the Spark
That ev'ry single Doe disdains,
But bravely chases all the Park.
What Charms can one pretend? She's fair,
Well-shap'd perhaps, plays well, or sings.
All's true; but were she yet more rare,
The God of Love, you know, has Wings.
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II
Beauty's dispers'd through all the Kind;Through all the Universe does move;
And 'till it be to one confin'd,
I think I've lawful Cause to rove.
To Day this Face delights my Eye,
But when I'm ask'd not to give o'er;
Your Servant; I've fed heartily.
Surfeits are dangerous. Not a Bit more.
| The works of Mr. Thomas Brown | |