EPIGRAMS FROM BUCHANAN.
A beautiful nymph wish'd Narcissus to pet her;
But he saw in the fountain one he loved much better.
Thou hast look'd in his mirror and loved; but they tell us
No rival will tease thee, so never be jealous.
J.O.W.H.
There's a lie on thy cheek in its roses,
A lie echo'd back by thy glass,
Thy necklace on greenhorns imposes,
And the ring on thy finger is brass.
Yet thy tongue, I affirm, without giving an inch back,
Outdates the sham jewels, rouge, mirror and pinchbeck.
J.O.W.H.