Ye Nymphs, whom tyrant Power drags down,
With hand despotic, from the Town,
When ALMACK'S doors wide open stand,
And the gay partner's offer'd hand
Courts to the dance; when steaming rooms,
Fetid with unguents and perfumes,
Invite you to the dear delight
Of well-bred crowds, and mobs polite;
You may conceive what FLORIO felt,
And sympathetically melt;
None else can guess the hardship dire,
To lawns and woodlands to retire,
When, freed from Winter's icy chain,
Glad Nature revels on the plain;
When blushing Spring leads on the hours,
And May is prodigal of flow'rs;
When Passion warbles thro' the grove,
And all is song, and all is love;
When new-born breezes sweep the vale,
And health adds fragrance to the gale.