Vain is ev'ry fond endeavour

Vain is ev'ry fond endeavour To resist the tender dart; For examples move us never; We must feel, to know the smart. When the shepherd swears he's dying, And our beauties sets to view; Vanity, her aid supplying, Bids us think 'tis all our due. Bids us think 'tis all our due.

Softer than the vernal breezes Is the mild, deceitful strain; Frowning truth our sex displeases, Flatt'ry never sues in vain: But, too soon, the happy lover Does our tend'rest hopes deceive; Man was form'd to be a rover, Foolish woman to believe, Foolish woman to believe.