ABSTRACT
I In vain I have labour’d the Victor to prove Of a Heart that can ne’er give Admittance to Love: So hard to be won, That nothing so young, 5 Could e’er have resisted a Passion so long. II But nothing I left unattempted or said, To soften the Heart of the Pityless Maid; Yet still she was shy, And would blushing deny, 10 Whilst her willinger Eyes gave her Language the Lye. III When before the Impregnable Fort I lay down, I resolv’d or to die, or to Purchase Renown, But how vain was the Boast! All the Glory I lost, 15 And now vanquish’d and sham’d I’ve quitted my Post.
