Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station,

She Who Has Never Lov'd, Has Never Liv'd.

In Beauty Faults Conspicuous Grow; The Smallest Speck Is Seen On Snow.

Whoever Heard A Man Of Fortune In England Talk Of The Necessaries Of Life? . . . Whether We Can Afford It Or No, We Must Have Superfluities.

How Happy Could I Be With Either, Were T'other Dear Charmer Away!

Twas When The Seas Were Roaring With Hollow Blasts Of Wind, A Damsel Lay Deploring, All On A Rock Reclined.