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Friend B., the argument you choose
There's but one creed,—that's Laissez faire; Behold its mild apostle !
My dear, declamatory pair,
Not your ephemeral hands, nor mine,
Who'll drink the last, I wonder?
TO Q. H. F.
SUGGESTED BY A CHAPTER IN THEODORE MARTIN'S
("ANCIENT CLASSICS FOR ENGLISH READERS.")
ORATIUS FLACCUS, B.C. 8,”
As you observed, the seasons roll;
Since, mourned of men and Muses nine,
And that was centuries ago!
You'd think we'd learned enough, I know,
Since last you trod the Sacred Street,
Ours is so far-advanced an age!
We have a thousand things, you see,
And yet, how strange! Our "world," to-day,
By Lydia's ponies,
Or hap on Barrus, wigged and stayed,
The great Gargilius, then, behold!
Fair Neobule too! Is not
One Hebrus here-from Aldershot?
Be wise. There old Canidia sits;
And look, dyspeptic, brave, and kind,
Here's Pyrrha, "golden-haired" at will;
Radiant, of course. We'll make her black,Ask her when Gyges' ship comes back.
So with the rest. Who will may trace
Science proceeds, and man stands still;
TO "LYDIA LANGUISH."
"Il me faut des émotions." BLANCHE AMORY.
YOU ask me, Lydia, "whether I, If you refuse my suit, shall die." (Now pray don't let this hurt you) Although the time be out of joint, I should not think a bodkin's point
The sole resource of virtue ; Nor shall I, though your mood endure, Attempt a final Water-cure
Except against my wishes;
For I respectfully decline
And make hors-d'œuvres for fishes;
Composedly can go,
Without a look, without a sigh,
"You are assured," you sadly say (If in this most considerate way
To treat my suit your will is), That I shall "quickly find as fair