What cruel pains Corinna takes To force that harmless frown; When not one charm her face forsakes, Love cannot lose his own. So sweet a face, so soft a heart, Such eyes, so very kind, Betray, alas! the silly art Virtue had ill designed. Poor feeble tyrant, who in vain Would proudly take upon her, Against kind nature, to maintain Affected rules of honor. The scorn she bears so helpless proves, When I plead passion to her, That much she fears, but more she loves, Her vassal should undo her. |