_Ques._ Apollo say,
Whence 'tis I pray,
The ancient custom came,
Stockins to throw
(I'm sure you know,)
At bridegroom and dame?
_Ans._ When Britons bold
Bedded of old,
Sandals were backward thrown,
The pair to tell,
That ill or well,
The act was all their own.
_Ques._ Long by Orlinda's precepts did I move,
Nor was my heart a foe or slave to love,
My soul was free and calm, no storm appeared,
While my own sex my love and friendship shared;
The men with due respect I always used,
And proffered hearts still civilly refused.
This was my state when young Alexis came
With all the expressions of an ardent flame,
He baffles all the objections I can make,
And slights superior matches for my sake;
Our humour seem for one another made,
And all things else in equal ballance laid;
I love him too, and could vouchsafe to wear
The matrimonial hoop, but that I fear
His love should not continue, cause I'm told,
That women sooner far than men grow old;
I, by some years, am eldest of the two,
Therefore, pray Sirs, advise me what to do.
_Ans._ If 'tis your age alone retards your love,
You may with ease that groundless fear remove;
For if you're older, you are wiser too,
Since few in wit must hope to equal you.
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