  If by one woman thou’rt jilted, love Another, and so forget her; To pack up thy knapsack, and straight remove From the town will be still better. Thou’lt soon discover a blue lake fair, By weeping willows surrounded; Thy trifling grief thou’lt weep away there, Thy pangs so little founded. Whilst climbing up the hillside fast, Thou’lt pant and groan full loudly; But when on the rocky summit at last, Thou’lt hear the eagle scream proudly. An eagle thyself thou’lt seem to be, New life the change will bestow thee; Thou’lt feel thou hast lost, when thus set free, Not much in the world below thee. |
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