At the gay Stage's mirthful pow'r;
Whilst gentry of the nobler sort
To a grand dance and treat resort.
Ah! what avail the Castle's rays,
Of British beauty to the blaze,
Or the bright show of mimic fire,
To living flames of high desire?
See, cull'd from Cytherea's dove,
Thick, nodding feathers scatter love;
Beware the gem, the artful wreath