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V. LOVE'S ETERNITY.
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19

V. LOVE'S ETERNITY.


20

“Cum Paris Enone potuit sperare relicta Ad fontem Xanthi versa recurrit aqua.”—Ovid.

What need of wit? What need of wile?
I know your eyes are killing;
But oh! he isn't worth a smile,
Who isn't worth a shilling!
And yet, by all the gods of rhyme,
And by your lips I swear,
Though all my love is loss of time
And all my hope despair,
The glittering stream shall cease to stray,
The wind refuse to rove,
All solid things shall melt away,
Before I cease to love!
Fair Freedom shall be found in Quod,
Stern Justice in the Quorum,
Carlile shall praise the grace of God,
John Bull shall learn decorum,
Loyal addresses shall omit
“Our fortunes and our lives,”
The Commons shall be famed for wit,
The Lords for virtuous wives,
The Tenth shall dress without a glass
Or dine with one remove,
All monstrous things shall come to pass
Before I cease to love.

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Young widowhood shall lose its weeds,
Old kings shall loathe the Tories,
And monks be tired of telling beads,
And blues of telling stories;
And titled suitors shall be crossed,
And famished poets married,
And Canning's motion shall be lost
And Hume's amendment carried,
And Chancery shall cease to doubt,
And Algebra to prove,
And hoops come in, and gas go out,
Before I cease to love.
And Peel shall sink his Popery-cry,
And Buxton lay his plans down,
And Bankes shall vote with honesty,
And Liverpool with Lansdowne;
And hungry knights shall lose their steak
And never talk of pairing,
And county members keep awake
Through half an hour of Baring;
And not a soul shall go to grin
When Martin goes to move,
And Mr. Cobbett shall get in,
Before I cease to love!
Good sense shall go to Parliament,
The tithe shall be abated,

22

A Papist shall be innocent,
A slave emancipated,
A French gallant shall break his heart,
A Spanish Count his fetters,
A fortune-teller trust her art,
A Radical his betters;
A pretty face shall like a veil,
A pretty hand a glove,
And Reason win, and bribery fail,
Before I cease to love.
In short, the world shall all go mad,
And saints shall take to masquing,
And kisses and estates be had
For nothing but the asking;
And beauty shall be ugliness,
And ocean shall be dry,
And passion shall be passionless
And truth itself a lie,
And “Stars” shall cease to shine below,
And stars to shine above,
And Cunningham be left for Lowe,
Before I cease to love.