A Pretty Woman

VII.

So, we leave the sweet face fondly there:

Be its beauty

Its sole duty!

Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!

VIII.

And while the face lies quiet there,

Who shall wonder

That I ponder

A conclusion? I will try it there.

IX.

As,—-why must one, for the love foregone,

Scout mere liking?

Thunder-striking

Earth,—-the heaven, we looked above for, gone!

X.

Why, with beauty, needs there money be,

Love with liking?

Crush the fly-king

In his gauze, because no honey-bee?

XI.

May not liking be so simple-sweet,

If love grew there

'Twould undo there

All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?

XII.

Is the creature too imperfect,

Would you mend it

And so end it?

Since not all addition perfects aye!