IF these gay tales give pleasure to the FAIR, The honour's great conferred, I'm well aware; Yet, why suppose the sex my pages shun? Enough, if they condemn where follies run; Laugh in their sleeve at tricks they disapprove, And, false or true, a muscle never move. A playful jest can scarcely give offence: Who knows too much, oft shows a want of sense. From flatt'ry oft more dire effects arise, Enflame the heart and take it by surprise; Ye beauteous belles, beware each sighing swain, Discard his vows:--my book with care retain; Your safety then I'll guarantee at ease.-- But why dismiss?--their wishes are to please: And, truly, no necessity appears For solitude:--consider well your years. I HAVE, and feel convinced they do you wrong, Who think no virtue can to such belong; White crows and phoenixes do not abound; But lucky lovers still are sometimes found; And though, as these famed birds, not quite so rare, The numbers are not great that favours share; I own my works a diff'rent sense express, But these are tales:--mere tales in easy dress.
To beauty's wiles, in ev'ry class, I've bowed; Fawned, flattered, sighed, e'en constancy have vowed What gained? you ask--but little I admit; Howe'er we aim, too oft we fail to hit. My latter days I'll now devote with care, To guard the sex from ev'ry latent snare. Tales I'll detail, and these relate at ease: Narrations clear and neat will always please; Like me, to this attention criticks pay; Then sleep, on either side, from night till day. If awkward, vulgar phrase intervene, Or rhymes imperfect o'er the page be seen, Condemn at will; but stratagems and art, Pass, shut your eyes, who'd heed the idle part? Some mothers, husbands, may perhaps be led, To pull my locks for stories white or red; So matters stand: a fine affair, no doubt, And what I've failed to do--my book makes out.
THE FAIR my pages safely may pursue, And this apology they'll not refuse. What recompense can I presume to make? A tale I'll give, where female charms partake, And prove resistless whatsoe'er assail: Blessed BEAUTY, NATURE ever should prevail.
HAD Fate decreed our YOUTH, at early morn, To view the angel features you adorn, The captivating pow'rs AURORA bless, Or airy SPRING bedecked in beauteous dress, And all the azure canopy on high Had vanished like a dream, once you were nigh. And when his eyes at length your charms beheld, His glowing breast with softest passion swelled; Superior lustre beamed at ev'ry view; No pleasures pleased: his soul was fixed on you. Crowns, jewels, palaces, appeared as naught. 'Twas solely beauteous woman now he sought.