Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose | ||
A Riddle.
In sacred Wedlock I am yearly ty'd,Fond of an antient Mate, and none beside:
He sometimes raves, nay, lashes me severely;
And yet I love my Tyrant most sincerely:
For in his dear embrace, secure and bless'd,
A spotless Virgin to this hour I rest;
So may I rest a Virgin, tho' a Wife:
Robb'd of that name, I soon should lose my Life.
Miscellanies, in Verse and Prose | ||