Miss SOPER's Answer to a Lady, who invited her to retire into a monastic Life at St. CROSS, near WINCHESTER

In vain, mistaken maid, you'd fly To desart and to shade; But since you call, for once I'll try How well your vows are made.

To noise and cares let's bid adieu, And solitude commend; But how the world will envy you, And pity me your friend.

You, like rich metal hid in earth, Each swain will dig to find; But I expect no second birth, For dross is left behind.