Or Tomkins’s unmannered frown,
“Yet boldly make my face their own,
When (oh, presumption!) they require
To animate a paving-stone
With Shakespeare’s intellectual fire.
“At parties where young ladies gaze,
And I attempt to speak my joy,
‘Hush, pray,’ some lovely creature says,
‘The fond illusion don’t destroy!’
“Whene’er I speak, my soul is wrung