Answer to the Foregoing, Addressed to Miss----

Dear simple girl, those flattering arts,

(From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts,

Exist but in imagination,

Mere phantoms of thine own creation;

For he who views that witching grace,

That perfect form, that lovely face,

With eyes admiring, oh! believe me,

He never wishes to deceive thee:

Once in thy polish'd mirror glance

Thou'lt there descry that elegance

Which from our sex demands such praises,

But envy in the other raises.--

Then he who tells thee of thy beauty,

Believe me, only does his duty:

Ah! fly not from the candid youth;

It is not flattery,--'tis truth.