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The three tours of Doctor Syntax

In search of 1. The picturesque, 2. Of consolation, 3. Of a wife. The text complete. [By William Combe] With four illustrations

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Maria next my bosom fir'd, And fix'd the love which she inspir'd.
Her auburn locks were seen to break In native ringlets on her neck;
Her smiles did to her face impart The goodness of a tender heart:

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In all her steps a grace was seen, With winning words and gentle mien.
Oh, while she liv'd she lovely prov'd And never ceas'd to be belov'd!
—No, she ne'er left me in the lurch, No, all she promis'd in the church
She did with fondest truth fulfil: She studied and obey'd my will;
While her ne'er-failing kindness I Return'd with grateful sympathy.
—These rosy hours, as thus they past,
Were far too blooming long to last:
Too soon she died—and jealous Heaven
Took back the Angel it had given.
“Two years pass'd on when my fond grief
Began from time to find relief:
Indeed I never thought again To wear the Hymeneal chain,
'Till lively Isabel appear'd, Whose pleasant wit my bosom cheer'd,
And there inspir'd a subtle flame,
While her black eye confirm'd the same.
But as our intimacy grew And I the lady better knew,
The gewgaws and the shew of dress Seem'd all her wishes to possess;
Nor could I happiness foresee In her expensive gaiety:
So as I would not be outwitted, I quietly the Lady quitted,
She threw about her lively flams, And scatter'd round her epigrams,
Because Ned Easy would not waste His rents to suit her tonish taste,
But left the Miss, as I'm afraid, To be an antiquated maid,
And to lead apes, O what a shame!
Where I, indeed, should blush to name.