Her name like some celestial fire quickens my spirit.
Midnight would blush at this.
There’s music in her smiles.
I will, like the perfumed winde, sport with your hair. Report could never have a sweeter air to fly in, than your breath.
Would I were secretary to your thoughts.
You walk in artificial clouds, and bathe your silver limbs in wanton dalliance.
Henri Quatre.
An Answer to Vanity.
In the reign of Louis XIV. the citizens of Pau had petitioned the King for leave to place a statue of “Henri quatre” in the market place of this his native town. The only reply which the vain monarch condescended to make was to send them his own statue. Of course obedience was imperative, but in erecting the statue of Louis the XIV. they inscribed on the pedestal, “This is the grandson of our good Henri.”[2]