REPLY TO SOME VERSES OF J. M. B. PIGOT, ESQ.
55
5.
If still, from false pride,[1]
Your pangs she deride,
This whimsical virgin forget;
Some other admire,
Who will melt with your fire,
And laugh at the little coquette.
6.
For me, I adore
Some twenty or more,
And love them most dearly; but yet,
Though my heart they enthral,
I'd abandon them all,
Did they act like your blooming coquette.
7.
No longer repine,
Adopt this design,[2]
And break through her slight-woven net!
Away with despair,
No longer forbear
To fly from the captious coquette.
