Jane Barker - To My Young Lover - Richard Mitchley/Ghizela Rowe

To My Young Lover by Jane Barker

Incautious Youth why do'st thou so mis-place

Thy fine Encomiums on an o'er-blown Face

Which after all the Varnish of thy Quill

It's Pristine wrinkles shew apparent still

Nor is it in the power of Youth to move

An Age-chill'd heart to any strokes of Love

Then chuse some budding Beauty which in time

May crown thy Wishes in thy blooming prime

For nought can make a more preposterous show

Than April's Flowers stuck on St Michael's Bow

To consecrate thy first-born Sighs to me

A superannuated Deity

Makes that Idolatry and deadly Sin

Which otherwise had only Venial been