Promises, maids, to his praise,
To crown, with affection, your nights,
With mirth and good humour your days.
Says Lydia, with love-looking eye,
Vow and promise you bachelors can,
But sure, till his virtues she try,
No maid should decide on her man.
The language of Spintext let’s cite,
’Tis take him for better or worse,
His heart, girls, you’ll find is as light,