Now fly, Discretion! to my aid,
See haughty Mira, fair and bright,
In all the pomp of love array'd;
Ah! how I tremble at the sight!
She comes! she comes!—before her all
Mankind does prostrate fall.

Love, a destroyer fierce and young,
Advent'rous, terrible, and strong,
Cruel and rash, delighting still to vex,
Sparing nor age nor sex,
Commands in chief: well fortify'd he lies,
And from her lips, her cheeks, and eyes,
All opposition he defies.
Reason, Love's old inveterate foe,
Scarce ever reconcil'd till now,
Reason assists her too.

A wife commander he, for council fit,
But nice and coy, nor has been seen to sit
In modern synod, nor appear'd of late
In courts nor camps, nor in affairs of state;
Reason proclaims them all his foes,
Who such resistless charms oppose.

My very bosom-friends make war
Within my breast, and in her interests are:
Esteem and Judgment, with strong Fancy, join
To court and call the fair invader in;
My darling favourite, Inclination, too,
All, all conspiring with the foe.

Ah! whither shall I fly to hide
My weakness from the conqueror's pride?
Now, now, Discretion! be my guide:
But see, this mighty Archimedes too
Surrenders now;
Presuming longer to resist,
His very name
Discretion must disclaim,
Folly and Madness only would persist.