Classic Poem

Intended to be Spoken by little Miss Robinson at her Benefit

To whom can innocence for succour sue,
Or hope protection, ladies, but from you?
From you whose breasts with gen'rous pity glow,
Whose eyes for others' sorrows kindly flow.
What, not a hiss?
No woman hater here?
We'll have no plaister'd pates tonight, I fear;
No Petits Maitres, who themselves admire,
And rob the ladies ev'n of their attire.
Oh, that I could but have my will, I'd teach 'em
To make such splutter about Polly Peachum!
Well, let 'em take their Polly and their fancy,
So I, dear ladies, could but be your Nancy,
And this your Polly.
Cheer the infant pair,
And bless us with your smiles, ye British fair.
Sister, with serious air and shape most taper,
Shall tread sublimely, while I attempt a caper.
Thus diff'rent ways we'll strive to give delight,
Inspir'd by the appearance of the night.
Our only study now shall be to please,
By you upheld, still bright'ning by degrees,
While such a circle of the brave and fair
Adorn our house, and take us to their care.