And bring Lothario to himself again.
Ye lovely nymphs, now sing in softest strains
Lothario’s praise, the pride of Scotia’s plains;
Ye charming youths, blest with his company,
Pray that Bane Moss he never more may see.
AMANDA:
AN ELEGY
ON THE
DEATH OF MRS. ——,
PERSONATING HER HUSBAND.
WHERE can the wretched find relief from wo,
Or sue for comfort in life’s dreary vale?
Here can philosophy no aid bestow,