To all you ladies now at Bath, <br />And eke, ye beaux, to you, <br />With aching heart, and wat'ry eyes, <br />I bid my last adieu. <br /> <br />Farewell ye nymphs, who waters sip <br />Hot reeking from the pumps, <br />While music lends her friendly aid, <br />To cheer you from the dumps. <br /> <br />Farewell ye wits, who prating stand, <br />And criticise the fair; <br />Yourselves the joke of men of sense, <br />Who hate a coxcomb's air. <br /> <br />Farewell to Deard's, and all her toys, <br />Which glitter in her shop, <br />Deluding traps to girls and boys, <br />The warehouse of the fop. <br /> <br />Lindsay's and Hayes's both farewell, <br />Where in the spacious hall, <br />With bounding steps, and sprightly air, <br />I've led up many a ball. <br /> <br />Where Somerville of courteous mien, <br />Was partner in the dance, <br />With swimming Haws, and Brownlow blithe, <br />And Britton pink of France. <br /> <br />Poor Nash, farewell! may fortune smile, <br />Thy drooping soul revive, <br />My heart is full I can no more-- <br />John, bid the coachman drive.<br /><br />Lady Mary Wortley Montagu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/farewell-to-bath/
