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