 | Poems (1791) |  |
59
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 skillCan 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.
| Poems (1791) | |