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CXXXIII
SONG

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

I

Why flies Clarissa from her Swain,
Regardless of Desire?
The Wanton sees his Pain,
And, of the Conquest vain,
Derides the Love-sick Fire.

197

II

Beware, ah! Cruel! Tempt not Fate,
Nor with Love's Arrows Toy;
Tho' now unhurt, Elate,
You'll surely find, too late!
There's Danger in the Boy.