A collection of original poems and translations | ||
327
On a Wasp's settling on Delia's Arm.
How sweetly careless Delia seems,
Her Innocence can fear no harm,
While round th' envenom'd Insect skims,
Then settles on her snowy Arm?
Her Innocence can fear no harm,
While round th' envenom'd Insect skims,
Then settles on her snowy Arm?
Ye flutt'ring Beaus and spiteful Bards,
To you this Moral true I sing;
Sense join'd to Virtue disregards
Both Folly's Buz, and Satyr's Sting.
To you this Moral true I sing;
Sense join'd to Virtue disregards
Both Folly's Buz, and Satyr's Sting.
A collection of original poems and translations | ||