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In those ears of mine,

These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words
That art or love could frame.

10. I am not form'd, by flattery and praise,
By sighs and tears, and all the whining trade
Of love, to feed a fair one's vanity,

To charm at once, and spoil her.

11. He that would win his dame, must do
As Love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.

12. For, you must know, a widow's won
With brisk attempt and putting on;
With ent'ring manfully, and urging,
Not slow approaches, like a virgin.



BUTLER'S Hudibras.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

13. She most attracts who longest can refuse.


14. With easy freedom and a gay address, A pressing lover seldom wants success.

15. A witty, wild, inconstant, free gallant.

16. To me he came; my heart with rapture sprung,
To see the blushes, when his faltering tongue
First said, I love. My eyes consent reveal,
And plighted vows our faithful passion seal.

17. So, with decorum all things carried,



GAY'S Dione.

Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was married.

18. She half consents who silently denies.



POPE'S Eloisa.

19. Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.




Like a lovely tree

She grew to womanhood, and between whiles
Rejected several suitors, just to learn
How to accept a better in his turn.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

21. The gentle pressure and the thrilling touch.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

22. To pick up gloves, and fans, and knitting-needles, And list for songs and tunes, and watch for smiles, And smile at pretty prattle, and look into

The eyes of maids as tho' they were bright stars.

23. But yet she listen'd-'t is enough

Who listens once will listen twice,

Her heart, be sure, is not of ice,
And one refusal's no rebuff.


BYRON'S Mazeppa.

24. Then thro' my brain the thought did pass,
Even as a flash of lightning there,
That there was something in her air
That would not doom me to despair.

25. Skill'd in the ogle of a roguish eye.

BYRON'S Mazeppa.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

26. Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes,
But not too humbly, or she will despise :
Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise.

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BYRON'S Childe Harold.

And sweet as softest music's gentle flow,

The lovers spoke.


28. While the dimple and blush, starting soft to her cheek, Told the tale that her tongue was too timid to speak.


29. There's nothing like maneuvering in season, Ye parents, who have daughters to dispose of, Especially if you have any reason


To think in maiden hood their lives will doze off,
And there is one in fifty thousand chances,
That Cash's eldest son will make advances.

DAWES' Geraldine.

When happy lovers meet
In some lone spot, where not a sound is heard
Save their own sighs, or the unequal beat

Of their young hearts to tender wishes stirr'd,
As hand seeks hand, and meeting glances tell
The unutter'd tale of love too sweetly well.




His hand did quake,

And tremble like a leaf of aspen green,

And troubled blood thro' his pale face was seen
To come and go, with tidings from the heart,
As it a running messenger had been.

SPENSER'S Fairy Queen.

2. Thereat he smitten was, with great affright,
And trembling terror did his heart appal,
Nor wist he what to think of that same sight,
Nor what to say, nor what to do at all.

SPENSER'S Fairy Queen.

3. Cowards die many times before their death; The valiant never taste of death but once.

4. And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, But, coward-like, with trembling terror die.





5. And, though he posted e'er so fast,
His fear was greater than his haste;
For fear, though fleeter than the wind,
Believes 't is always left behind.

6. Those that fly may fight again,

Which he can never do that's slain ;
Hence timely running 's no mean part
Of conduct in the martial art.

BUTLER'S Hudibras.

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8. Think not, coward, wit can hide the shame

Of hearts, which, while they dare not strike for fear,
Would make it virtue in them to forbear.

9. Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full, Weak and unmanly, weakens ev'ry pow'r.


THOMSON'S Seasons.

10. Grac'd with a sword, but worthier of a fan.



My blood ran back,

My shaking knees against each other knock'd-
On the cold pavement down I fell entranc'd,


12. The wretch that fears to drown, will break thro' flames;
Or, in his dread of flames, will plunge in waves.
When eagles are in view, the screaming doves
Will cower beneath the feet of man for safety.

13. Imagination frames events unknown,

In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin;
And what it fears creates !



14. As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.

15. Must I consume my life-this little life,
In guarding against all may make it less?
It is not worth so much!-it were to die
Before my hour, to live in dread of death.


BYRON'S Sardanapalus.

16. It has a strange, quick jar upon the ear,

This cocking of a pistol, when you know
A moment more will bring the sight to bear
Upon your person, twelve yards off or so.

BYRON'S Don Juan.

17. And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour before, Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness.

BYRON'S Childe Harold.

18. Go-let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff-not the brand.


BYRON'S Bride of Abydos.

Hope, fear, and love,

Joy, doubt, and hate, may other spirits move,
But touch not his, who, ev'ry waking hour,
Has one fix'd dread, and always feels its pow'r.




Our doubts are traitors,

And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt.


2. Oh, how this tyrant, doubt, torments my breast!
My thoughts, like birds, who, frighten'd from their nest,
Around the place where all was hush'd before,
Flutter, and hardly nestle any more.


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