"Forbear, sir elm, the vine reply'd,
"Nor wonder if your suit's deny'd.
"Shall I give up my independence,
"On your caprice to dance attendance?
"Must I, or nod, or bend, or twine,
"Just as your worship shall incline?
"Or shall my charms, which all admire,
"Become a barren tree's attire?
"No — seek more suitable alliance —
"I to all danger bid defiance.
"Here, unconfin'd, I range my fill;
"And bounteous nature waits my will. "