MISS POLLY or the pretty Poetess

Fresh as the morn, as op'ning lillie fair, And mild as gentle zephyrs fan the air, A charming daughter of Apollo's train, To sing the beauties of the rural plain, Ye modern sons that strike the tuneful lyre, Muse o'er her verse and immitate her fire, Invoke the genius which her note inspires, And plead the art poetic sons desires; Then may your theme acquire no mean degree, Secure of praise and from the critic free.— O! would the fair but immitate this maid, And 'scape the snare which empty fashions spread, Scorn all the flippant tinsels of a day, And but to virtue sacred homage pay:— Ah! little think the gay light headed train, That youthful folly brings an age of pain: Through life's gay flutter how you pass away, Like April snow before the rising ray: Renounce the errors of the present age, And look for wisdom in the virtuous page: These (lovely daughters of Columbia's land) Will honest hearts and husband's true command.