Consols to a quarter the more or the less?
Where the rumours of earth, and the clouds of the sky
Bid the sellers to hold, or the knowing ones buy,
(Which the public in general thinks, “All my eye”)?
’Tis the place of the swain, ’tis the haunt of the one
Who thy beauty unceasingly ponders upon;
Whose passion for thee can ne’er suffer decline,
And till further advice is Thine Own Valentine.
Diogenes, February, 1853.