Why will Delia thus retire
And languish life away?
While the sighing crowds admire,
’Tis too soon for hartshorn tea.
All these dismal looks and fretting
Cannot Damon’s life restore,
Long ago the worms have ate him,
You can never see him more.
Once again consult your toilette,
In the glass your face review, [10]
So much weeping soon will spoil it
And no spring your charms renew.
I like you was born a woman –
Well I know what vapours mean,
The disease alas! is common,
Single we have all the spleen.
All the morals that they tell us
Never cured sorrow yet,
Choose among the pretty fellows
Prithee hear him ev’ry morning
At least an hour or two,
Once again at nights returning,
I believe the dose will do.