POEMS.
LOVE AT SALE.
(The Idea is taken from a Greek Epigram.)
Come buy my ware! come buy! come buy!
Fond youths and curious maids, draw nigh;
I have this lovely wicked boy to sell.
Go not, fair girls, his cage too near!
Though mild his looks, his arrows fear;
Be still, the urchin's faults and merits while I tell.
Fond youths and curious maids, draw nigh;
I have this lovely wicked boy to sell.
Go not, fair girls, his cage too near!
Though mild his looks, his arrows fear;
Be still, the urchin's faults and merits while I tell.
He in this little form unites
The pangs of hell, and Heaven's delights;
He reigns the lord of every mortal heart:
He wounds the peasant, wounds the king,
And is the fairest, falsest thing,
That e'er excited joy, or bade a bosom smart.
The pangs of hell, and Heaven's delights;
He reigns the lord of every mortal heart:
He wounds the peasant, wounds the king,
And is the fairest, falsest thing,
That e'er excited joy, or bade a bosom smart.
