A Wretch long tortur'd with Disdain,
That hourly pin'd, but pin'd in vain,
At length the God of Wine addrest,
The Refuge of a wounded breast.
Vouchsafe, oh Pow'r, thy healing Aid,
Teach me to gain the cruel Maid;
Thy Juices take the Lover's Part,
Flush his wan Looks, and chear his Heart.
Thus to the Jolly God he cry'd;
And thus the Jolly God reply'd,
Give shining o'er, be brisk and gay,
And quaff this sneaking Form away.
With dauntless Mein approach the Fair;
The Way to conquer is to Dare
The Swain pursu'd the God's Advice;
The Nymph was now no longer Nice.
She smil'd, and spoke the Sex's Mind;
When You grow Daring, We grow Kind:
Men to themselves are most severe,
And make us Tyrants by their Fear.