SONG.
A Pox upon this needless Scorn!
Silvia, for shame the Cheat give o’er;
The end to which the fair are born,
Is not to keep their Charms in store,
But lavishly dispose in haste,
Of Joys—which none but Youth improve;
Joys which decay when Beauty’s past:
And who when Beauty’s past will love?
When Age those Glories shall deface,