On an old Maid’s Marriage.
Celia, a coquet in her prime,
The vainest, ficklest thing alive;
Behold the strange effects of time!
Marries and doats at forty-five.
Thus weathercocks, that for awhile
Have turned about with every blast,
Grown old, and destitute of oil,
Rust to a point, and fix at last.
A Cure for Love.