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I clambered up a lofty rock,

And did not find it steep;
I read through a page and a half of Locke

And did not fall asleep.
I said whate'er I may but feel,

I paid whate'er I owe;
And I danced one day an Irish reel

With the gout in every toe.

And I was more than six feet high,

And fortunate and wise ;
And I had a voice of melody,

And beautiful black eyes;
My horses like the lightning went,

My barrels carried true;
And I held my tongue at an argument,

And winning cards at Loo..

I saw an old Italian priest,

Who spoke without disguise;
And I dined with a Judge, who swore, like Best,

All libels should be lies.
I bought for a penny a two-penny loaf

Of wheat, and nothing more ;
I danced with a female philosopher

Who was not quite a bore.

There was a crop of wheat which grew

Where plough was never brought; There was a noble lord who knew

What he was never taught.

There was a scheme in the gazette

For a lottery without blanks ; And a Parliament had lately met,

Without a single Bankes.

And there were Kings who never went

To cuffs for half a crown;
And Lawyers who were eloquent

Without a wig or gown :
And Statesmen who forebore to praise

Their grayhounds and their guns;
And Poets who deserved the bays,

And did not dread the duns ;

And Boroughs were bought without a test,

And no man feared the Pope;
And the Irish cabins were all possessed

Of Liberty and soap;
And the Chancellor, feeling very sick,

Had just resigned the seals;
And a clever little Catholic

Was hearing Scotch appeals.

There was no fraud in the penal code,

No dunce in the public schools, No dust or dirt on a private road,

No shame in Wellesly Pole.
They showed me a figurante, whose name

Had never known disgrace;
And a gentleman of spotless fame,

With Mr. Bochsa's face.

It was an idle dream-but thou,

Beloved one! wert there; With thy dark clear eyes and beaming brow,

White neck and floating hair ; And oh! I had an honest heart,

And thou wert dear, as still thou art:

And more than dear—my own.

Oh bitterness! the morning broke,

Alike for boor and bard;
And thou wert married when I woke,

And all the rest were marred :
And toil and trouble, noise and steam,

Came back with coming ray,
And if I thought the dead could dream,

I'd hang myself to-day.


Not mine this lesson—but experience's which it taught me.

THERE was a time when I could feel

All passion's hopes and fears,
And tell what tongues can ne'er reveal,

By smiles, and sighs, and tears.
The days are gone! no more ! no more,

The cruel fates allow;
And though I'm hardly twenty-four,
I'm not a lover now!
Lady, the mist is on my sight,

The chill is on my brow;
My day is night, my bloom is blight,

I'm not a lover now !

I never talk about the clouds,

I laugh at girls and boys;
I'm growing rather fond of crowds,

And very fond of noise

I never wander forth alone

Upon the mountain's brow;
I weighed last winter sixteen stone

I'm not a lover now!

I never wish to raise a veil,

I never raise a sigh,
I never tell a tender tale,

I never tell a lie;
I cannot kneel as once I did,

I've quite forgot my bow,
I never do as I am bid-

I'm not a lover now.

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I make strange blunders every day,

If I would be gallant-
Take smiles for wrinkles, black for gray,

And nieces for their aunt;
I fly from folly, though it flows

From lips of loveliest glow;
I don't object to length of nose

I'm not a lover now !

The Muse's steed is very fleet

I'd rather ride my mare;
The poet hunts a quaint conceit-

I'd rather hunt a hare;
I've learned to utter yours and you,

Instead of thine and thou;
And, oh! I can't endure a blue !

I'm not a lover now!

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