SONG III. The March Chick.
Written to be Sung by a Girl.
I
How happy! how happy is she
That early her Passion begins?
And, willing with Love to agree,
Does not stay till she comes to her Teens:
Love then is all pure and chast,
Like Angels, its Smiles to be priz'd;
Pleasure is shown you barefac'd,
And Nature appears undisguis'd.
II
To be Twenty, or Thirty, and then
Set up for a Lover is Vain;
By that Time we study how Men
May be rack'd with Neglect and Disdain:
Love dwells where you meet with Desire,
Desire much sooner appears;
She's a Fool then that, feeling the Fire,
Considers the Tale of her Years.