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Poems on Several Occasions

In Two Volumes. By Mr. Joseph Mitchell

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To a young Lady,
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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To a young Lady,

on her Marriage with an old Gentleman.

I

Since all thy Fishing but a Frog hath catch'd,
Aurora, now, have I not Cause to rage?
Shou'd I not grieve, to see thy Morning match'd
With one, who's in the Evening of his Age?

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II

Shou'd hoary Hairs, the Messengers of Death,
Mix with thy Locks, whose Colour is like Gold?
Shou'd Wrinkles bath in thy ambrosial Breath,
And Life be lengthen'd to an Oaf, so old?

III

Must He, who's Jealous, thro' his own Defect,
Thy Beauty's unstain'd Treasure only taste?
And, as he fumbles heavily, suspect,
That others share a Portion of his Feast.

IV

More than my own, her Fortune I deplore,
Who, now condemn'd to monumental Arms,
Hears the dull Sot upon her Bosom snore,
Unconscious of his Duty, and her blooming Charms.