The strifeless fray, that love despises,
Where but to win some heartless prizes
And fling them unenjoyed away,
Is all your male coquets essay !--
Here comes the bitter spleen again-
And here I close th' impartial strain,
That to your fancy may display
The motley groupe 'mongst which I stray.—
Farewell, and blessings be around
Each spot of earth on which you're found.—
your dear girls, with love to each
From theirs and yours,
FROM MISS DOROTHY SKETCH, TO MISS BRIDGET
-'s Boarding House, Cheltenham.
Ir's over, oh, Biddy, my darling! it's over,
I'm quite in a fever I vow and declare,
My heart beats so wildly-I ne'er shall recover—
Oh! nothing can cure me-fans-water—or air!
The deuce take the fellow! so tenderly glancing,
His eyes met with mine, and like lightning, my love,
Every pulse in my frame in a moment set dancing,
And I sank on my chair, hardly able to move!
And her young spirit's truth impart
Gladness to some as virtuous heart;
Whilst every blushing charm and grace,
And every sweet smile of her face,
Reflected in an infant race
Of Love's true pledges may we see !—
-FR-NKS, with this prayer I set thee free!
-Ha! mighty MISTER HUMDRUM MUMBLE!humble;
Your most obedient very
Could bloated self-sufficiency
A smattering of gentility,
An air dégagé, and a mind
Nor coarsely vulgar, nor refined,
Could qualities like these atone
For wit-nor yet for wit alone,
But common sense and common spirit,
And every other earthly merit,
I might with philosophic grace
Endure your unpropitious face,
By neither sentiment nor feeling
Illumined with the least revealing!-
-Your words in lisping mouthfuls flung
With careless bustle from your tongue,
I could endure, more patient yet,
And e'en your mirthless jokes forget:
But as it is, since never wight,
So dull, insipid, vague and trite
Was seen Dame Fashion's lists among,
I banish you the scope of song;-
And doom you to perpetual silence,
In all my lucubrations while hence-
Nor, do what e'er you will amiss,
Accord you one more strain than this.-
-Turn to that mild and gentle form Where time has shed a mellowing charm O'er the fell ravages of grief
Soothing the pangs that mocked relief—
Oh, SH- —K-GH! whilst the feeling mind
Esteems whate'er is good and kind;
Lord, what a confession! to think that
your Dolly
Who once frowned on love as the height of all folly,
And secure in the calm, quiet chill of her heart,
Had long baffled Cupid's most treacherous dart :
Then think, only think! Biddy dear, in a minute,
My triumph is over-my quiet is gone-
Oh, Love! thy soft smile has some witchery in it,
And never is felt 'till the bosom is won!
But you are no novice, my dear! and can feel
For the smart of that wound which no balsam can heal,
But that lip-salve divine, which tho' ready to die
Old "Harridan Prudery," strictly forbids
Us to ask or implore-altho' sometimes the eye
Seems to whisper soft wishes from under its lids.
Now listen, my friend, my companion, my dear!
My Biddy so careful, discreet, and sincere,
And when you have heard the lost state of my bosom,
Oh, send me your counsels-you cannot refuse 'em:
And experience so trying as yours, well may prove
The best of all blessings to Dolly in love!
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