Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/98

86  But now, grown old, ſhe would repair Her loſs of time and pleaſure, With willing eyes and wanton air Inviting ev’ry gazer.

But love ’s a ſummer-flow’r, that dies With the firſt weather’s changing; The lover like the ſwallow flies, From ſun to ſun ſtill ranging.

Mira! let this example move Your fooliſh heart to reaſon: Youth is the proper time for love, And age is virtue’s ſeaſon. well Corinna likes the joy, She vows ſhe ’ll never more be coy; She drinks eternal draughts of pleaſure; Eternal draughts do not ſuffice; “O! give me, give me more,” ſhe cries, “’T is all too little, little meaſure.”

Thus wiſely ſhe makes up for time Miſpent while youth was in its prime: So travellers who waſte the day, Careful and cautious of their way,