Those lovely features, all will yet be well;
And thou, from love’s and man’s deceptions free,
Wilt dwell in virgin-state, and walk to Heaven with me.”
The Maiden frown’d, and then conceived “that wives
Could walk as well, and lead as holy lives,
As angry prudes who scorn’d the marriage-chain,
Or luckless maids, who sought it still in vain.”
The Friend was vex’d - she paused; at length she cried,
“Know your own danger, then your lot decide:
That traitor Beswell, while he seeks your hand,