HINTS TO LOVERS.
I
How oft by mankind is it spoken
That love is the source of all ill;
That many fond hearts he has broken,
And blights all our happiness still.
But I cannot tell how they contrive it,
Though lovers complain of their lot,
They commonly seem to survive it,
If hearts have been broken or not.
II
Though there's always a portion of sighing,
You'll find no disease in a sigh;
And until men and women love dying,
Love never will cause them to die.
If men would get rid of their anguish,
I'll cure their disquietude thus—
Let us all resolve never to languish
For girls that won't languish for us.
III
No hard-hearted beauty can move me,
Who answers my smiles with a frown;
But if one should e'er deign to love me,
That instant my heart is her own.
Through Cupid's wild labyrinth roving,
Who is there that never has proved,
Though there's something delightful in loving,
There's heaven in being beloved?
IV
When love is o'erwhelm'd with distresses,
They flow from our folly alone;
But all of the joys he possesses
Are tender delights of his own.
When vainly our vows have been plighted,
No more protestations we'll waste;
But slighting—as we have been slighted,
We'll leave them, and pity their taste.
V
When two hearts are govern'd by Cupid,
All sorrowful feelings are flown,
But truly that love must be stupid,
Which only is cherish'd by one.
All those who are sad and forsaken
From former disasters may learn,
Ere they love, proper care should be taken
That somebody loves in return.
