John Byrom

Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!

Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!

But who alas! can love and then be wise?

But who alas! can love and then be wise?

I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my read more

I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my vestal vary takes wing.

A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand read more

A tigress, robb'd of young, a lioness,
Or other interesting beast of prey,
Are similes at hand for the distress
Of ladies who cannot have their own way.

Laughter
Leaves us doubly serious shortly after.

Laughter
Leaves us doubly serious shortly after.