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Poem by John Gay The Coquet Mother and Coquet Daughter A SONG At the close of the day, When the beanflower and hay Breath’d odours in every wind; Love enliven’d the veins Of the damsels and swains; Each glance and each action was kind. Molly, wanton and free, Kiss’d, and sat on each knee, Fond ecstasy swam in her eyes: ‘ See, thy mother is near, Hark! She calls thee to hear What Age and Experience advise. ‘ Hast thou seen the blithe dove Stretch her neck to her love, All glossy with purple and gold? If a kiss he obtain, She returns it again: What follows, you need not be told.’ ‘ Look ye, Mother, she cry’d, You instruct me in Pride, And Men by good manners are won. She who trifles with all Is less likely to fall Than she who but trifles with one.’ ‘ Prithee, Molly, be wise, Lest by sudden surprise Love should tingle in every vein: Take a shepherd for life, And when once you’re a wife, You safely may trifle again.’ Molly smiling replied, ‘ Then I’ll soon be a bride; Old Roger has gold in his chest; But I thought all you wives Chose a man for your lives, And trifled no more with the rest.’ John Gay John Gay's other poems:
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