SONG CXCV. The ACCIDENT

As th'other Day Milking I sat in the Vale, Young Damon came up to address his soft Tale, So sudden I started up and gave him a Frown, For he frighted my Cow and my Milk was kick'd down.

Oh! bless me! says I, what the Duce can you mean, To come thus upon one unthought unseen, I ne'er approve of the Love you pretend, For as Mischief begins, perhaps Mischief may end.

I little thought now he'd his Passion advance, But pretty Excuses made up the Mischance, He begg'd a kind Kiss which I granted I vow, And I laid my own self, the whole Fault on the Cow,

How many Ways Love can the Bosoom invade, His Art prov'd to strong for an innocent Maid, He hinted that Wedlock was what he'd be at, But I thought it was best to say nothing to that,

I flutter all o'er when e'er he comes nigh, For if he shou'd press I shall surely comply, And ne'er shall be angry, my Heart itself tells, Tho' he flings down my Milk—or does any thing else.