Not easy to deny desired joy;Thro' whose soft eyes still secret wishes shine,Fit for thy mistress' use, but more for mine;Who, Betty, did the fatal secret see?Who told Corinna you were kind to me!Yet when she chid me for my kind embrace,Did any guilty blush spread o'er my face!Did I betray thee, maid, or could she spyThe least confession in my conscious eye !Not that I think it a disgrace to proveStol'n sweets, or make a chambermaid my love;Achilles wanton'd in Briseis' arms,Atrides bow'd to fair Cassandra's charms:Sure I am less than these,-then what can bringDisgrace to me, that so became a king !But when she look'd on you, poor harmless maid,You blush'd, and all the kind intrigue betray'd;Yet still I vow'd, I made a stout defence,I swore, and look'd as bold as innocence;"Damme,—egad!" all that, and—"let me die!"'