It is an Office I ne’er thought t’ have had;
All who discourse me think that I am mad.
Our Convent too must be as mad as I,
Or they might have perceiv’d my Incapacity.
Oh! how I wish to be as blest as they
Who, as your Servants, your Commands obey.
I shou’d be Proud, like one of them, to wait
On you, tho’ ’twere ev’n in the meanest State.
My Love for you I don’t at all repent;
That you ’ve seduced me, I am well content.