John Byrom ( 10 of 36 )
For glances beget ogles, ogles sighs,
Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter.
For glances beget ogles, ogles sighs,
Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter.
For over-warmth, if false, is worse than truth.
For over-warmth, if false, is worse than truth.
A hand may first, and then a lip be kiss'd.
A hand may first, and then a lip be kiss'd.
His eyes
Were with his heart. and that was far away.
His eyes
Were with his heart. and that was far away.
His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.
His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
And taught him when to be reserved or free.
I tell the tale as it was told to me.
I tell the tale as it was told to me.
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
Ah, happy years, once more who would not be a boy!
He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.
He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.
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.
The point is plain as a pike staff.
The point is plain as a pike staff.
