SOME ANGEL, WITH A SAVING DRINK.


ET, when some Angel, with a saving drink
Of iced Nepenthe comes, I shall not shrink;
But, having drunk of it, shall feel again
As good and noble as before, I think.





ACH morn some fresh repentance brings, you say?
Yes—but where leaves the vows of Yesterday?
For I shall make and break them all, again,
When Time hath taken this Headache away.





HAT if my conscience seem an idle joke—
My good resolves all disappear in smoke?
This thought remains—and is it not enough?—
I do not wear the Matrimonial Yoke!





AY! There is no one waiting at the door,
Whene'er I wander in at half-past four,
No one to question, no one to accuse,
No one, my shocking frailty to deplore!