But Men of plunder can ne'er get her under,
And Misers all Women despise,
She baulks the pert Fops in the midst of their hopes,
And laughs at the Grave and Precise.
Next she's caress'd by a musical crew,
Shrill Singing and Fidling, Beaus warbles o'th' Flute,
And Poets whom Poverty still will pursue,
That's a just cause for rejecting their suit:
Impudent Fluters the Nymph does abhor,
And Lovers with Fiddle at neck she disdains;