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Page 25 - For while she makes her silk-worms beds, With all the tender things, I swear, Whilst all the house my passion reads, In papers round her baby's hair. She may receive and own my flame, For though the strictest prudes should know it, She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, And I for an unhappy poet.
Page 40 - 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 that she despises.
Page 126 - Breathes on his aching fists in vain, And dooms me to a place more hot. He sees me in to supper go, A silken wonder by my side, Bare arms, bare shoulders, and a row Of flounces, for the door too wide. He thinks how happy is my arm 'Neath its white-gloved and jewelled...
Page 36 - The dews of the evening most carefully shun ! Those tears of the sky for the loss of the sun.
Page 116 - Frank. If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer Whiff of the best, the mildest " honey-dew," I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer, If I were you! Nellie. If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter, Even to write the Cynical Review : — Frank. No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter, If I were you ! Nellie.
Page xvii - FOLLOW a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly it, it will pursue. So court a mistress, she denies you, Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men ? At morn and even shades are longest, At noon they are or short or none. So men at weakest, they are strongest, But grant us perfect, they're not known. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men...
Page 72 - Or I am much mistaken. Must Lady Jenny frisk about, And visit with her cousins? At balls must she make all the rout, And bring home hearts by dozens?
Page 100 - Lieutenant of the County. But titles, and the three per cents., And mortgages, and great relations, And India bonds, and tithes, and rents, Oh what are they to love's sensations? Black eyes, fair forehead, clustering locks Such wealth, such honours, Cupid chooses He cares as little for the Stocks, As Baron Rothschild for the Muses.