[p18]
But ah! what passions, long suppress’d,
Were rous’d in each unguarded breast;
Ambition, that had dormant lain,
And Pride, with Luxury in his train;
While Vanity performed her part
In simple Susan’s easy heart!
Suppose the joy that now abounded,
The exclamations that resounded:
How strange! what luck! what can have brought it?
Good lack! Dear me! Who would have thought it?