The DISTRESSED DAMSEL.
BALLAD VIII.
I
Of all my experience how vast the amount,
Since fifteen long winters I fairly can count!
Was ever a damsel so sadly betray'd,
To live to these years and yet still be a maid?
II
Ye heroes triumphant by land and by sea,
Sworn vot'ries to love, but unmindful of me;
You can storm a strong fort, or can form a blockade,
Yet ye stand by like dastards, and see me a maid.
III
Ye lawyers so just, who with slippery tongue,
Can do what you please, or with right, or with wrong,
Can it be or by law or by equity said,
That a buxom young girl ought to die an old maid
IV
Ye learned physicians, whose excellent skill
Can save, or demolish, can cure, or can kill,
To a poor, forlorn damsel contribute your aid,
Who is sick—very sick—of remaining a maid.
V
Ye fops, I invoke, not to list to my song,
Who answer no end—and to no sex belong;
Ye echoes of echoes, and shadows of shade—
For if I had you—I might still be a maid.
