In melting verse your charms I drew,
The charms in which my Muse delighted;
Alas! the lay, I thought, was new,
Spoke only what had been indicted!
Oh! when that form, a lovely one,
Hung on the neck its arms had flown to,
I little thought that you had run
A chance of hanging on your own too!
You said you picked me from the world—
My vanity it now must shock it,