“It was not these alone which led
On sacred manners to encroach,
And made me feel what most I dread,
Johnson’s just frown and self-reproach:
“But when I entered, not abashed,
From your bright eyes were shot such rays,
At once intoxication flashed,
And all my frame was in a blaze.
“But not a brilliant blaze, I own;
Of the dull smoke I’m yet ashamed,