[Fate justly reach'd the pratling Fool]
I
Fate justly reach'd the pratling Fool,
For telling Stories out of School.
Was't not enough I stoop'd so low,
On him m' Affection to bestow?
To clasp him in my circling Arms,
And feast him with Love's choicest Charms;
But must the babling Fool proclaim,
His Queen's Infirmity and Shame?
II
Of all the Sins on this side Hell,
The blackest sure's to Kiss and tell.
'Tis Silence best becomes Delight.
And hides the Revels of the Night,
If then my Spark has met his Due,
For bringing sacred Mysteries to View,
E'en let him take it for his Pains,
And curse his want of Gratitude and Brains.
