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!

I make strange blunders every day,
If I would be gallant ;

Take smiles for wrinkles, black for

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!

grey,

I find

my Ovid very dry,

My Petrarch quite a pill, Cut Fancy for Philosophy,

Tom Moore for Mr. Mill.

And belles may read, and beaux may write,

I care not who or how;

I burnt my Album, Sunday night ;—

I'm not a lover now!

I don't encourage idle dreams

Of poison or of ropes :
I cannot dine on airy schemes;
I cannot sup on hopes:
New milk, I own, is very fine,

Just foaming from the cow;

But yet, I want my pint of wine ;—
I'm not a lover now!

hearts away,

When Laura sings young
I'm deafer than the deep;
When Leonora goes to play,

I sometimes go to sleep;

When Mary draws her white gloves out, I never dance, I vow,—

"Too hot to kick one's heels about!"

I'm not a lover now!

I'm busy, now, with state affairs;
I prate of Pitt and Fox;

I ask the price of rail-road shares,
I watch the turns of stocks.
And this is life! no verdure blooms
Upon the withered bough:

I save a fortune in perfumes ;-
I'm not a lover now!

I

may

be yet, what others are,

A boudoir's babbling fool,

The flattered star of Bench or Bar,

A party's chief, or tool :

Come shower or sunshine, hope or fear,
The palace or the plough,—

My heart and lute are broken here;

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!

(1826.)

UTOPIA.

-"I can dream, sir,

If I eat well and sleep well."-THE MAD LOver.

IF I could scare the light away,

No sun should ever shine;

If I could bid the clouds obey,

Thick darkness should be mine

:

Where'er my weary footsteps roam,
I hate whate'er I see;

And Fancy builds a fairer home

In slumber's hour for me.

I had a vision yesternight

Of a lovelier land than this,

Where heaven was clothed in warmth and light,
Where earth was full of bliss ;

And every tree was rich with fruits,
And every field with flowers,

And every zephyr wakened lutes

In passion-haunted bowers.

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;

I dined with a judge who swore, like Best,

All libels should be lies:

I bought for a penny a twopenny loaf,
Of wheat, and nothing more;

I danced with a female philosophe,

Who was not quite a bore.