On Lady A

Young, thoughtless, gay, unfortunately fair, Her pride to please, and pleasureall her care; With too much kindness, and too little art, Prone to indulge the dictates of the heart; Flatter'd by all, solicited, admir'd; By women envied, and by men desir'd; At once from full prosperity she's torn, By friends deserted, of defence forlorn, Expos'd to talkers, insults, want, and scorn; By ev'ry idle tongue her story told, The novel of the young, the lecture of the old. But let the scoffer, or the prude, relate With rigour's utmost force, her hapless fate, Good-nature still to soft compassion wrought Shall weep her ruin while it owns her fault: For if her conduct, in some steps betray'd, To virtue's rule too little rev'rence paid, Yet dying, still she shew'd so dear her fame, She could survive her guilt, but not her shame; Her honour, dearer than her life she prov'd, And dearer far than both, the man she lov'd.