Posted by Dinky Mind on Monday, April 05, 2004 in
When lonely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentence to her lover,
And wring his bosom__ is to die.

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