(1631–1700)
Song for a Girl
Young I am, and yet unskill’d
How to make a lover yield;
How to keep, or how to gain,
When to love, and when to feign.
Take me, take me, some of you,
While I yet am young and true;
Ere I can my soul disguise,
Heave my breasts, and roll my eyes.
Stay not till I learn the way,
How to lie, and to betray:
He that has my first, is blest,
For I may deceive the rest.
Could I find a blooming youth,
Full of love, and full of truth,
Brisk, and of a jaunty mien,
I should long to be fifteen.
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