Improbability, or, The batchelor's dislike to a married life/Bonny Bell

BONNY BELL.

IN fair Edina dwelt a maid,
⁠not of high birth, nor low,
'Tis not material when, I trow;
⁠but 'tis not long ago.
Howe'er this Laſs of Laſſes was
⁠much for beauty fam'd;
Each foppling that could read and write,
⁠her praiſe in verſe proclaim'd.
⁠Ye god's! ſhe was a virgin fair,
⁠none could her charms excel;
⁠No roſe in Ekron's vale could e'er
⁠compare with bonny Bell.

For her full long did Strephon whine,
⁠for her he rack'd his breaſt;
But no fond flatt'rer could engage
⁠this Helen of the weſt.
Ignaro next the fair addreſs'd,
⁠he too a paſſion feign'd;
Plutus in vain did urge his ſuit,
⁠but both the maid diſdain'd.

At laſt grave Damon made his ſuit,
⁠ſhe liſten'd to his tale;
He pled a genuine virtuous love,
⁠and virtue did prevail.
The choice approv'd; to lend his aid
⁠Thalius did not fail;
Each vale redounded with the praiſe,
⁠of Damon and his Bell.