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The Play-Thing chang'd.

Kitty's charming voice and face,
Syren-like, first caught my fancy;
Wit and humour next take place,
And now I doat on sprightly Nancy.
Kitty tunes her pipe in vain,
With airs most languishing and dying;
Calls me false ungrateful swain,
And tries in vain to shoot me flying.
Nancy with resistless art,
Always humourous, gay, and witty;
Has talk'd herself into my heart,
And quite excluded tuneful Kitty.
Ah Kitty! Love, a wanton boy,
Now pleas'd with song, and now with prattle,
Still longing for the newest toy,
Has chang'd his whistle for a rattle.