MODERN
MANNERS
.
Or
modern
Manners
let
me
sing
,
The
gay
Flirtilla
cries
—
Manners
,
my
dear
!
there's
no
such
thing
—
Her
grandmamma
replies
.
You
say
,
cries
Miss
,
in
days
of
yore
People
were
highly
bred
;
But
,
thank
my
stars
,
those
days
are
o'er
,
Those
people
all
are
dead
.
The
world
is
now
at
ease
and
gay
,
Improv'd
in
every
art
,
Fraught
with
diversions
night
and
day
To
charm
and
fire
the
heart
.
To
live
in
these
enlighten'd
days
Is
surely
life
indeed
;
Long
may
they
last
,
Flirtilla
prays
,
And
joy
to
joy
succeed
!
The
mind
,
left
free
and
uncontroul'd
,
Makes
pleasure
all
it's
aim
;
Youth
will
not
now
by
age
be
told
—
My
dear
,
you
are
to
blame
.
Such
Gothic
parents
,
thanks
to
Heaven
,
Are
now
but
rarely
found
;
Those
,
whom
the
fates
to
me
have
given
,
Live
but
in
Pleasure's
round
.
No
tedious
hours
at
home
they
pass
In
dull
domestic
care
;
To
think
,
they
say
,
would
soon
,
alas
!
Bring
wrinkles
and
grey
hair
.
Oft
have
I
heard
them
jeer
and
joke
At
wedlock's
galling
chain
;
Then
cry
,
Thank
Heaven
,
'tis
now
no
yoke
,
We
wed
to
part
again
.
In
former
times
indeed
'twas
said
,
That
hearts
were
join'd
above
,
That
women
to
their
husbands
paid
Obedience
,
truth
and
love
.
But
title
,
pin-money
and
dower
Now
join
our
hands
for
life
,
No
other
ties
than
these
have
power
To
couple
man
and
wife
.
To
these
alone
my
thoughts
aspire
,
On
these
I
fix
my
heart
;
A
wealthy
husband
I
require
—
I
care
not
when
we
part
.