MADAM ,

I've seen, but ah! these happy hours are fled,
When you was charmed with every thing I said;
Praised my perfections to a high degree,
Vowed you loved only one, and that was me.
Ah! lovely nymph; can you so faithless prove,
To slight the swain you did so dearly love.
Yes, yes, 'tis true, and I am in despair,
And must I die a martyr to the fair!
Let all who love their peace, of your sex have care,
For every smile, and every look's a snare.