The next alert and debonair.           

                        

             Poor Damon bit his nails and sigh'd, But still he was not satisfied; He could not rest, nor be content, Until to Cupid's court he went. Of rules establish'd in the place, Or, how to enter with a grace, He own'd he neither knew nor car'd, But thought such nonsense better spar'd, And went undaunted and alone To place himself before the throne. He kiss'd no hand, he bent no knee, Nor measur'd steps of one, two, three, But made a careless, slouching bow, And said, "Your highness will allow, That I am personable, tall, A rather handsome face withal, And fit to serve as volunteer, At least as any present here! Purblind, and deaf, and long and short, Without distinction here resort; Whilst I, neglected and forgot, Sate daily watching in my cot; And scarcely stirr'd, for fear there might, Arrive that morning or that night A captaincy, or some commission, For I confess I have ambition, And think if none had done me wrong I had not been o'erlook'd so long. To come then, Sir, I thought my duty, Oh! make me sensible to beauty! The ice about my bosom melt! Infuse a warmth it never felt! I come uncall'd! excuse my boldness! In truth I could not bear the coldness!"           

                        

             Half piqued to see him thus intrude,           

             And question in a way so rude;           

             Half tickled at the strange address,           

             Cupid said gravely, "We confess           

             There may be reason in your plea;           

             But still we very much admire           

             Your entering in such strange attire!           

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