Poems By Edward Quillinan. With a Memoir by William Johnston |
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LADIES' EYES. |
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98
LADIES' EYES.
TO MISS ------.
The common song of “Ladies' Eyes”
Is not the song for me;
And flattery is too coarse a prize
To be received by thee.
Is not the song for me;
And flattery is too coarse a prize
To be received by thee.
Then shade not thine with anger's cloud,
Although a friend complain
Of eyes that captivate the proud,
And persecute the vain.
Although a friend complain
Of eyes that captivate the proud,
And persecute the vain.
False tongues have ruin'd many a heart,
False eyes have ruin'd more;
Thine eyes are false, and full of art,
The modern lady's lore.
False eyes have ruin'd more;
Thine eyes are false, and full of art,
The modern lady's lore.
Forgive me, if I rudely preach;
But thou art fair and young,
And few will beauty's eyes impeach
With truth's impartial tongue.
But thou art fair and young,
And few will beauty's eyes impeach
With truth's impartial tongue.
99
A generous spirit like to thine
Should scorn the juggler's play,
That teaches ladies' eyes to shine,
To flatter, and betray.
Should scorn the juggler's play,
That teaches ladies' eyes to shine,
To flatter, and betray.
If only fools and fops were stung
By that hyblean smile,
I scarce could grudge thee, fair and young,
The triumph of thy guile.
By that hyblean smile,
I scarce could grudge thee, fair and young,
The triumph of thy guile.
The victims of their own conceit
May serve a lady's mirth;
But there are hearts that warmly beat
On this unfeeling earth.
May serve a lady's mirth;
But there are hearts that warmly beat
On this unfeeling earth.
Such, by delusive kindness caught,
To looks confide their peace;
And, when they find their hopes were nought
But trophies for caprice,
To looks confide their peace;
And, when they find their hopes were nought
But trophies for caprice,
They will not let thee hear them sigh.
Nor let thee see them weep;
They will not sue, for pride is high
Where tenderness is deep.
Nor let thee see them weep;
They will not sue, for pride is high
Where tenderness is deep.
100
They will not wear the lover's chain
Exposed upon their breast;
Nor make a spectacle of pain
That thou and thine may jest.
Exposed upon their breast;
Nor make a spectacle of pain
That thou and thine may jest.
Nor will they dreary woods explore,
Nor pace in lonely halls;
Nor linger on the river shore,
To gaze upon thy walls.
Nor pace in lonely halls;
Nor linger on the river shore,
To gaze upon thy walls.
But they will join the social walk,
And fare as others fare;
And thus thy pride of conquest balk,
By their contented air.
And fare as others fare;
And thus thy pride of conquest balk,
By their contented air.
But not the less, oh not the less,
Though well they act their part,
May be the patient mind's distress,
The blight upon the heart.
Though well they act their part,
May be the patient mind's distress,
The blight upon the heart.
Remember then, for true love's sake,
False looks are worse than words;
And play no more the bright-eyed snake
That fascinates the birds.
False looks are worse than words;
And play no more the bright-eyed snake
That fascinates the birds.
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