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Till prudence urging the demand,
And careful of my fame,
claim'd the promise of his hand,
To take away my shame.
⟨A⟩ rising blush his face o'erspread,
And Nabal thus reply'd:
You have alone your master's bed,
But cannot be his bride.
Well might the world my meanness scorn,
If I could stoop so low
⟨To⟩ marry one so humbly born
And one so poor as you."
⟨In⟩ vain I urg'd the vows he made,
In vain expos'd my grief,
⟨In⟩ vain were all the tears I shed,
To bring my soul relief.
⟨Too⟩ late I then at length perceiv'd,
That all my hopes were gone,
⟨That⟩ I'd been cruelly deceiv'd,
And was, alas! undone.
⟨For⟩ soon disgusted at my tears,
And sated with my charms,
⟨He⟩ realiz'd my boding fears,
And left my longing arms.
⟨Another⟩ now enjoys the bliss