Song

BY DOROTHEA DU BOIS

A Scholar first my Love implor’d,
And then an empty, titled Lord;
The Pedant talk’d in lofty Strains;
Alas! his Lordship wanted Brains:
I list’ned not, to one or t’other,
But straight referr’d them to my Mother.

A Poet next my Love assail’d,
A Lawyer hop’d to have prevail’d;
The Bard too much approv’d himself,
The Lawyer thirsted after Pelf:
I list’ned not, to one or t’other,
But still referr’d them to my Mother.

An Officer my Heart wou’d storm,
A Miser, sought me too, in Form;
But Mars was over-free and bold,
The miser’s Heart was in his Gold:
I list’ned not, to one or t’other,
Referring still unto my Mother.

And after them, some twenty more,
Successless were, as those before;
When Damon, lovely Damon came!
Our Hearts strait felt a mutual Flame;
I vow’d I’d have him, and no other,
Without referring, to my Mother.