When Cupids leave the Virgin's face

When Cupids leave the Virgin's face.
That long had made her smiles their home;
And saucy wrinkles seize their place,
Tho' never once desired to come.
'Tis vain the killing art to try.
The golden moments are gone by.

When jetty locks are turned to grey,
That form'd such charms for lovers' hearts;
When eyes are dim, and scarce can see,
That beam'd such fires, and threw such darts.
'Tis vain the killing art to try,
The golden moments are gone by.

Then wedlock, girls, should share your prime,
And Love should meet you with your swain;
But should you yield your charms to time,
He gives you back but sighs again.
And tells you, with a scornful eye,
The golden moments are gone by.