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Sylvia's Complaint

of her Seres Unhappiness. A poem. Being the Second Part of Sylvia's Revenge, or, a Satyr against Man [by Richard Ames]

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How oft have Widows, who have broke the Chain,
Been tempted to the Fatal Noose again?
By ugly Tongues of false Dissembling Men,
And tho' once cheated, venture once again:
Widows are Baits for Younger Brothers laid,
To patch a Ruin'd Fortune, or a Trade;
Experience in the Streets proclaims it loud,
That from the great and Num'rous Female Croud,

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Widows like Deer, are singled from the Herd,
To be undone, which Suiters call prefer'd:
They tell' em that they hate the Skittish Maid,
Theyr for a Womans Judgment pois'd and weigh'd,
Till they have lur'd' em to the fatal Curse,
And they are theirs for better and for worse.
(But ev'ry Day's Relation makes it common,
To love the Mony, when they hate the Woman.)
Some Tawdry Youthful Punck is then maintain'd,
With good old Gold in former Days she gain'd.
Or if she Dies, which very oft does follow,
A Heifer purchas'd with the Old Cows Tallow.