William Congreve (1670–1729)

FAIR Amoret is gone astray:

Pursue and seek her, every lover!

I’ll tell the signs by which you may

The wandering shepherdess discover.

Coquet and coy at once her air,

Both studied, though both seem neglected;

Careless she is, with artful care,

Affecting to seem unaffected.

With skill her eyes dart every glance,

Yet change so soon you’d ne’er suspect them;

For she’d persuade they wound by chance,

Though certain aim and art direct them.

She likes herself, yet others hates

For that which in herself she prizes;

And while she laughs at them, forgets

She is the thing she despises.