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To Corinna.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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20

To Corinna.

A SONG.

1

What Cruel pains Corinna takes,
To force that harmless frown:
When not one Charm her Face forsakes,
Love cannot lose his own.

2

So sweet a Face, so soft a Heart,
Such Eyes so very kind,
Betray, alas! the silly Art
Virtue had ill design'd.

3

Poor feeble Tyrant! who in vain
Would proudly take upon her,
Against kind Nature to maintain
Affected Rules of Honour.

4

The Scorn she bears so helpless proves,
When I plead Passion to her,
That much she fears, (but more she loves,)
Her Vassal should undo her.