The Caution

Soft kisses may be innocent;

But ah! too easy maid, beware;

Tho’ that is all thy kindness meant,

’Tis love’s delusive, fatal snare.

No virgin e’er at first design’d

Thro’ all the maze of love to stray;

But each new path allures her mind,

Till wandering on, she lose her way.

’Tis easy ere set out to stay;

But who the useful art can teach,

When sliding down a steepy way,

To stop, before the end we reach?

Keep ever something in thy power,

Beyond what would thy honour stain:

He will not dare to aim at more,

Who for small favours sighs in vain.