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Vainly on her my Moments I shall waste,
She who like thee is cold, and who like thee is chaste."
But then what tender Stripling shall escape?
What blushing Boy avoid a Lady-Rape?
Where shall each lisping creature hide his head,
To amazonian desires betray'd?
Where from the wily Heroine remove,
Clad in the fortitude of Wine and Love?
Oh! hapless Lad, what refuge canst thou find