SONG.
How shall the simple-hearted maid
Escape the treacherous wiles,
By vain unfaithful man outspread,
How shun the fatal toils?
When ev’ry guile and ev’ry art
Stand forth in readiness,
T’ ensnare the unsuspecting heart,
And leave it to distress.
Coldness or scorn ensures their love
They sigh---they are undone;
But oh, what pangs that heart must prove,
Which owns it has been won!
Then cease, ye gentle beings cease
The insidious sex to trust,
For ah, ye sacrifice your peace,
When you believe them just.
ANNA.
New-York, Dec. 22, 1796.