THE CHATTERBOX.
From morning till night it was Lucy's delight,
To chatter and talk without stopping;
There was not a day but she rattled away,
Like water forever a dropping.
As soon as she rose, while she put on her clothes,
'Twas vain to endeavor to still her;
Nor once did she lack to continue her clack,
Till again she lay down on her pillow.
How very absurd! and have you not heard
That much tongue and few brains are connected?
That they are suppos'd to think least who talk most?
Their wisdom is always suspected.
While Lucy was young, if she'd bridled her tongue,
With a little good sense and exertion,
Who knows but she might now have been our delight,
Instead of our jest and aversion!
Jane Taylor.
THE SCALE.[8]
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