And leaping from a b—lc—y,
Were quite absurd—in Belg—ve Square.
My s—st—r raves of H—w—ll, Ja—s,
And thinks with dr—ss to ease my thrall;
She deems not of d—vour—g flames
Beneath one's f—fty-g—nea sh—wl!
M—ma to M—rt—r and St—rr
Drags me with sweet maternal haste;
My p—rls of s—l they can't restore,
Nor l—fe's bright d—m—ds, turn'd to paste!