How Happy Could I Be With Either,

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

When We Risk No Contradiction, It Prompts The Tongue To Deal In Fiction.

Fair Is The Kingcup That In Meadow Blows, Fair Is The Daisy That Beside Her Grows.

Thus Shadow Owes Its Birth To Light.

To Frame The Little Animal, Provide All The Gay Hues That Wait On Female Pride: Let Nature Guide Thee; Sometimes Golden Wire The Shining Bellies Of The Fly Require; The Peacock's Plumes Thy Tackle Must Not Fail, Nor The Dear Purchase Of The Sable's Tail.