THERE are who know what once to-day it was -- Your eyes, your conscience, and your morning glass. How durst you venture that adulterate part, Belabour'd with your fucus and best art, To the rude breath of every rash salute? What did your proffer whisper? expect suit? You were too pliant with your ear; you wish'd Pomatum and vermilion might be kiss'd. That lip, that cheek by man was never known, Those favours you bestow are not your own. Henceforth such kisses I'll defy, like thee, Which druggists sell to you, and you to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BISHOP HATTO [AND THE RATS] by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE APPROACH OF LOVE by LOUIS ARAGON HAUNTED STREETS by MATHILDE BLIND THE HAPPY LAND by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE PLUCKY PRINCE by MAY BRYANT THE WANING MOON by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE WINDS by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |