So Bright The Tear In Beauty's Eye,

Go Let Thy Less Than Woman's Hand Assume The Distaff Not The Brand.

So Bright The Tear In Beauty's Eye, Love Half Regrets To Kiss It Dry.

And Then He Danced,-all Foreigners Excel The Serious Angels In The Eloquence Of Pantomime;-he Danced, I Say, Right Well, With Emphasis, And A'so With Good Sense-a Thing In Footing Indispensable: He Danced Without Theatrical Pretence, Not Like A Ballet-master In The Van Of His Drill'd Nymphs, But Like A Gentleman.

Physicians Mend Or End Us, Secundum Artem; But Although We Sneer - In Health - When Ill We Call Them To Attend Us, Without The Least Propensity To Jeer

So Sweet The Blush Of Bashfulness, E'en Pity Scarce Can Wish It Less!