T'S dreadful to think on, people playing with their own insides in that way! And it's flying i' the face o' Providence; for what are the doctors for, if we aren't to call 'em in?
Mrs. Pullet, in George Eliot's Mill on the Floss.
RIEF, in two rules he summed the ends of man—
Keep all you have, and try for all you can!
Lord Lytton, King Arthur.
LOVE SONG.
HAT mistress half so dear as mine,
Half so well dressed, so pungent, fragrant,
Who can such attributes combine,
To charm the constant, fix the vagrant?
Who can display such varied arts,
To suit the taste of saint and sinner,
Who go so near to touch their hearts,
As thou, my darling dainty dinner?
Still my breast holds a rival queen,
A bright-eyed nymph of sloping shoulders,
Whose ruddy cheeks and graceful mien
Entrance the sense of all beholders.
Oh! when thy lips to mine are pressed,
What transports titillate my throttle!
My love can find new life and zest,
In thee, and thee alone, my bottle!