In vain would honour love undo!
False let her be! she's fair!
The hour she's kind, that hour she's true,
And kind is all my care.
Shall I resist that kindling eye,
That looks to me inclined?
Or idly fear a rival's joy
Is deeper in her mind?

No, no! ye gods, her present joy
Gives rapture such excess,
'Twere folly to let doubts destroy
What now is real bliss.
Let your heroic sighers quest
The game of souls refined;
My humble happier heart shall rest
Content with fair and kind.

Or if by chance, again deceived,
I find the sex untrue,
At least by changing I'm relieved,
And raptures past renew.
Thus, nor the pain, nor anxious care
I feel of higher joy,
But while the wantons wing the air
I shoot them as I fly.