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WRITTEN IN "LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN AND AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, BY J. J. ROUSSEAU; [1] FOUNDED ON FACTS."
"Away, away,—your flattering arts
May now betray some simpler hearts;
And you will smile at their believing,
And they shall weep at your deceiving."
[Footnote 1: A second edition of this work, of which the title is, Letters, etc., translated from the French of Jean Jacques Rousseau, was published in London, in 1784. It is, probably, a literary forgery.]
ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING, [i] ADDRESSED TO MISS——.
Dear simple girl, those flattering arts,
(From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts,)[ii]
Exist but in imagination,
Mere phantoms of thine own creation; [iii]
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 [iv]
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, [v]
Believe me, only does his duty:
Ah! fly not from the candid youth;
It is not flattery,—'tis truth. [vi]
WRITTEN IN "LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN AND AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, BY J. J. ROUSSEAU; [1] FOUNDED ON FACTS."
"Away, away,—your flattering arts
May now betray some simpler hearts;
And you will smile at their believing,
And they shall weep at your deceiving."
[Footnote 1: A second edition of this work, of which the title is, Letters, etc., translated from the French of Jean Jacques Rousseau, was published in London, in 1784. It is, probably, a literary forgery.]
ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING, [i] ADDRESSED TO MISS——.
Dear simple girl, those flattering arts,
(From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts,)[ii]
Exist but in imagination,
Mere phantoms of thine own creation; [iii]
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 [iv]
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, [v]
Believe me, only does his duty:
Ah! fly not from the candid youth;
It is not flattery,—'tis truth. [vi]
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