John Byrom

But thy true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties; give me a cigar.

But thy true lovers more admire by far
Thy naked beauties; give me a cigar.

But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.

But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink,
Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow.

I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my read more

I make a declaration every spring,
Of reformation ere the year run out,
But somehow this my vestal vary takes wing.

He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.

He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.

My days of love are over: me no more
The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow,
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My days of love are over: me no more
The charms of maid, wife, and still less of widow,
Can make the fool of; that they made before:
In fact I must not lead the life I did do.