But to dirty white dimity curtains, and blow
The choicest of meats when the summer days glow!
Let the hater of sentiment, dew-drops, and flowers,
Scorn the insect that flutters in sunbeams and bowers;
There’s a pleasure that none but the blue-bottle knows—
’Tis to buzz in the ear of a man in a doze!
II.
How charming to haunt a sick-chamber, and revel
O’er the invalid’s pillow, like any blue devil;
When pursued, to bounce off to the window, and then