Charles, for my Fame I would in prudence strive, 400
And, if I could, would keep your Love alive;
But there are things that our attention claim,
More near than Love, and more desired than Fame!”
D. “But why in secret?” he will ask you—
C. “Why?
Oh, Charles! could you the doubting spirit spy,
Had you such fears, all hearers you would shun;
What one confesses should be heard by one.
Your mind is gross, and you have dwelt so long