Sent to Miss Bell H—, with a Pair of Buckles

Happy trifles, can ye bear
Sighs of fondness to the fair?
If your pointed tongues can tell,
How I love my charming Bell:
Fondly take a lover's part;
Plead the anguish of my heart.

Go—ye trifles—gladly fly,
(Graci us in my fair one's eye)
Fly—your envy'd bliss to meet;
Fly, and kiss the charmer's feet.

Happy there, with waggish play,
Tho' you revel day by day,
Like the donor, every night,
(Robb'd of his supreme delight)
To subdue your wanton pride,
Useless, you'll be thrown aside.