N moving lines these few EPISTLes tell
What fate attends the nymph that likes too well :
How faintly the successful lovers burn;
And their neglected charms how ladies mourn.
The fair you'll find, when soft intreațies fail,
Affert their uncontested right, and rail.
Too soon they listen, and resent too late ;
Too sure they love, whene’er they strive to hate.
Their sex or proudly shuns, or poorly craves ;
Commencing tyrants, and concluding Naves.
In diff'ring breasts what diff'ring passions glow!
Ours kindle quick, but yours extinguish flow.
The fire we boast, with force uncertain burns,
And breaks but out, as appetite returns :
But yours, like incense, mounts by soft degrees,
And in a fragrant flame consumes to please.
Your fex, in all that can engage, excel;
And ours, in patience, and persuading well.
Impartial nature equally decrees;
You have your pride, and we our perjuries.