And you know not the reason why,
In your own or an old friend's thought.
Barry Cornwall.
24. You are weary of the endless theme of Cupid's smiles and sighs,
You are sick of reading rigmaroles about "my lady's eyes;"
You cannot move, you cannot look around, below, above,
But men and women, birds and bees, are prating about love.
R. M. Charlton.
25. You hate ingratitude more in man,