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Each canto of the twelve, or twenty-four;
And, laying down my pen, I make my bow, Leaving Don Juan and Haidee to plead' For them and theirs with all who deign to read.
END OF CANTO SECOND.
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
Or know who rested there; a foe to rest
Which makes it fatal to be loved ? Ah why
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
And place them on their breast—but place to die-
In all the others all she loves is love,
And fits her loosely-like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her;
One man alone at first her heart can move; She then prefers him in the plural number, Not finding that the additions much encumber.
But one thing's pretty sure; a woman planted(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted; Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted; Yet there are some, they say, who have had none, But those who have ne'er end with only one.
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
A sad, sour, sober beverage-by time Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour Down to a very homely household savour.
Between their present and their future state;
Is used until the truth arrives too lateYet what can people do, except despair?
The same things change their names at such a rate; For instance-passion in a lover's glorious, But in a husband is pronounced uxorious.
They sometimes also get a little tired,
The same things cannot always be admired, Yet 'tis " so nominated in the bond,"
That both are tied till one shall have expired. Sad thought! to lose the spouse that was adorning Our days, and put one's servants into mourging.
Which forms, in fact, true love's antithesis;
But only give a bust of marriages;
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss:
All comedies are ended by a marriage;
For authors fear description might disparage The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath,
And then both worlds would punish their miscarriage; So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready, They say no more of Death or of the Lady.
Have sung of heaven and hell, or marriage, are