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Shrew'd remarkers often say Men were formed to betray; |
Form'd to fascinate the fair, |
Then to plunge them in despair: |
Tyrants of creation made, Prone like tyrants to invade! |
Wanting what they can't enjoy, And to love unknowing. |
Feigning rapture when we're by, |
Willing at our feet to die: |
Vow, the smiles or frowns of fate On important females wait. |
If, unversed in their arts, |
We surrender up our hearts; |
Cool, they view the sacrifice, And the maid expiring. |
While my heart is yet my own, Nor my soft affections flown; |
Ev'ry passion at command -- Free my heart |
as free my hand; |
Cool, I'll hear the tale of love, |
'Till convinc'd, I may approve: Then I'll fly to meet my swain, Nor disguise my rapture. R |
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Email: Mary S. Van Deusen Copyright © 2014, InterMedia Enterprises |