Of pleasure and folly.—You think it is strange
That I let you, say—love me? But why not?—my reason
Requires illusions. They give me that change
Which quiets remembrance. You kiss me—I wonder.—
When you say, "You are beautiful,"—well, am I glad
If I laugh?—You declaim on my form, "How no blunder
Of nature discords,"—If I sigh, am I sad?
V
How you stare at my eyes!—Well! my lips!—must they languish
For kisses to redden?—"My eyes are as bright