My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays

No—not in string, nor plaister base,
But round some tall preserving jar,
This glove, the luckiest of his race,
Shall catch the Gourmand's glance afar!
And all his envious passions move,
The raspberry's luscious jam to greet,
The ruby of the peach to prove,
Or crab, as peach, or raspberry sweet.
Or gooseberry—with its blending tart,—
Or the plump cherry's scarlet heart,
Which more than maiden blushes move
The science of his taste to love.

121

The sugared fruit within thy care,
May more his tempted thought beguile,
Than bashful beauty's timid air,
Or balmy infant's gladdening smile;
If lovely bride, or babe of glee,
Were his, who wastes his verse on thee.

Then, lucky glove, exulting go,
And as in “sweets” thy day arose,
In sweets its latest hour shall close,
Sweets, that in kind succession flow.
Young beauty shall exulting see,
And bend her graceful neck to thee;
While her excelling fingers twine,
Around each parted arm of thine;
Unconscious of its fairer days,
Will boast the worth that AGE displays,
And give thy hoarded sweets her praise.

Namely.—“An old glove is good for something.”

University of Virginia Library

SECOND ADDRESS

TO THE SAME GLOVE; INTENDED AS A RESPONSE TO THE UNAVOWED AUTHOR OF THE ABOVE.