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Salad in our garden grown,
or "Vis "
Nothing here of "Force"
After, surely, there should be,
Then, before the sunlight wanes,
So we speed the golden hours
So-until the shadows fall:
Then Good Night say each and all;
(Thus URBANUS to his Wife
THE PASSIONATE PRINTER TO
(WHOSE NAME IS AMANDA)
[With Apologies to the Shade of Christopher Marlowe.]
COME live with me and be my Dear;
There's Diamond-'tis for your Eyes;
In Nonpareil I'll put your Face;
In Rubric shall your Blushes rise; There is no Bourgeois in your Case;
Your Form can never need "Revise."
Your Cheeks seem "Ready for the Press";
Your Laugh as Clarendon is clear; There's more distinction in your Dress Than in the oldest Elzevir.
So with me live, and with me die;
(ERRATUM. If my suit you flout,
And choose some happier Youth to wed, 'Tis but to cross AMANDA out,
And read another name instead.)
(WITH HIS VERSES)
MYRTALÉ, when I am gone
(Who was once Anacreon),
Lay these annals of my heart