A SECOND-HAND SERENADE.
(The modern youth, we are told, is content to hymn his Lady in the amorous diction of other bards.)
It is not mine, Aminta, to commend you
According to your merits. Miles above
My puny lyre were this; I therefore send you,
For reference, "The Classic Gems of Love."
Would I approve your tresses? See p. 7,
L. 2, for what I frankly think of them;
Your lips? p. 8; your dimples, p. 11;
Your teeth and ears and ankles? ibidem.
Your kisses? vide Jonson, B., "To Celia;"
See "Annie Laurie" for the way I greet
Your neck and voice and eyes (the song has really a
Trustworthy picture also of your feet).
But nay! It ill behoves the ardent lover
To turn your gaze to any single spot,
In every line, from cover unto cover,
My passion finds an echo. Read the lot.