CORINNA.
COrinna in the Bloom of Youth
Was coy to every Lover,
Regardless of the tenderest Truth,
No soft Complaint could move her.
Mankind was hers: All at her Feet
Lay prostrate and adoring,
The Witty, Handsome, Rich, and Great,
In vain alike imploring.
But now grown old; she wou'd repair
Her Loss of Time and Pleasure,
With willing Eyes, and wanton Air,
Inviting every Gazer.
But Love's a Summer Flow'r, that dies
With the first Weather's changing;
The Lover, like the Swallow, flies
From Sun to Sun, still ranging.
Myra, let this Example move
Your foolish Heart to Reason:
Youth is the proper time for Love,
And Age is Virtue's Season.