Oh, thou wilt weep, imprudent maid, While lurking envious foes will smile, For all the follies thou hast said Of those who spoke but to beguile. 3 Vain girl! thy lingering woes are nigh, If thou believ'st what striplings say: Oh, from the deep temptation fly, Nor fall the specious spoiler's prey. 4 Dost thou repeat, in childish boast, The words man utters to deceive? Thy peace, thy hope, thy all is lost, If thou canst venture to believe. 5 While now amongst thy female peers Thou tell'st again the soothing tale, Canst thou not mark the rising sneers Duplicity in vain would veil? 6 These tales in secret silence hush, Nor make thyself the public gaze: What modest maid without a blush Recounts a flattering coxcomb's praise? 7. Will not the laughing boy despise Her who relates each fond conceit-- Who, thinking Heaven is in her eyes, Yet cannot see the slight deceit? 8. For she who takes a soft delight These amorous nothings in revealing, Must credit all we say or write, While vanity prevents concealing. 9. Cease, if you prize your Beauty's reign! No jealousy bids me reprove: One, who is thus from nature vain, I pity, but I cannot love. January 15, 1807. [First published, 1832.] [Footnote 1: To A Young Lady (Miss Anne Houson) whose vanity induced her to repeat the compliments paid her by some young men of her acquaintance.--'MS. Newstead_'.] TO ANNE. [1] 1. Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous: I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you; But Woman is made to command and deceive us-- I look'd in your face, and I almost forgave you. 2. I vow'd I could ne'er for a moment respect you, Yet thought that a day's separation was long; When we met, I determined again to suspect you-- Your smile soon convinced me _suspicion_ was wrong. 3. I swore, in a transport of young indignation, With fervent contempt evermore to disdain you: I saw you--my _anger_ became _admiration_; And now, all my wish, all my hope's to regain you. 4. With beauty like yours, oh, how vain the contention! Thus lowly I sue for forgiveness before you;-- At once to conclude such a fruitless dissension, Be false, my sweet Anne, when I cease to adore you! January 16, 1807. [First published, 1832.] [Footnote 1: Miss Anne Houson.] EGOTISM. A LETTER TO J. T. BECHER. [1] [Greek: Heauton bur_on aeidei.] 1. If Fate should seal my Death to-morrow, (Though much _I_ hope she will _postpone_ it,) I've held a share _Joy_ and _Sorrow_, Enough for _Ten_; and _here_ I _own_ it. 2. I've lived, as many others live, And yet, I think, with more enjoyment; For could I through my days again live, I'd pass them in the 'same' employment. 3.