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Ripen'd by thy auspicious eyes, And eager
to bestow the prize, For which thy matchless beauties call, Each kindles to a golden ball; Love's smiling Queen, whose tender aid Protects the Myrtle's fragrant shade, Fore-knowing what thy charms would be, Left to thy choice this fairer tree.
WRITTEN AT THE
REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN
A LADY HAD GIVEN A SPRIG OF MYRTLE.
BY SA MUEL JOHNSON, L.L. D.
What hopes, what terrors does thy gift create,
WITH A PRESENT OF A KNIFE.
A Knife, dear Girl, cuts love they say—
All that affection feels, and fears, When hours, without you, seem like years.Till that be done (and I'd as soon Believe this Knife will chip the moon) Accept my present undeterr'd, And leave their Proverbs to the herd. If in a kiss-delicious treat! Your lips acknowledge the receipt ; Love, fond of such substantial fare, And proud to play the glutton there, All thoughts of cutting will disdain, Save only—cut and come again.'
ON THE LATE
ANNIVERSARY OF HIS WEDDING-DAY,
TO HIS WIFE
WITH A RING, AND THE FOLLOWING LINES.
By the Same.
“Thee, MARY, with this ring I wed," So sixteen years ago I said, Behold another ring !" For what?" “ To wed thee o'er again,—why not?"
With the FIRST ring I married Youth, Grace, Beauty, Innocence, and Truth; Taste long admir'd, Sense long rever'd: And all my MOLLY THEN appear'd.
If she, by merit since disclos'd,