TO THE SIGHING STREPHON.
65
Though a smile may delight,
Yet a frown will affright[1]
Or drive me to dreadful despair.
7.
While my blood is thus warm,
I ne'er shall reform,
To mix in the Platonists' school;
Of this I am sure,
Was my Passion so pure,
Thy Mistress would think me a fool.[2]
8.[3]
And if I should shun,
Every woman for one,
Whose image must fill my whole breast;
Whom I must prefer,
And sigh but for her,
What an insult 'twould be to the rest!
9.
Now Strephon, good-bye;
I cannot deny,