ABSTRACT
Pan grant that I may never prove, So great a Slave to fall in love, And to an Unknown Deity. Resign my happy Liberty: 5 I love to see the Amorous Swains, Unto my Scorn their Hearts resign: With Pride I see the Meads and Plains. Throng’d all with Slaves, and they all mine: Whilst I the whining Fools despise, 10 That pay their Homage to my Eyes.
