Impromptu Lines Upon A Very Handsome Woman Keeping The Hotel De Lion Blanc, At Dantzig.

The sign of the house should be chang'd, I'll be sworn,
Where enchanted we find so much beauty and grace;
Then quick from the door let the lion be torn,
And an angel expand her white wings in his place.

John Carr

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John Carr

Lines On A Little Bird Singing At The Window Of The Author, Soon After The Death Of A Beloved Sister.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

In Devonshire.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Lines To The Memory Of Erasmus, By Oudaan, Inscribed On The Pedestal Of The Statue Raised In Honour Of The Former, In Rotterdam.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Song.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

English

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Impromptu To Madame C ---- Written At Paris, Upon Her Appearing Equally Modestly And Elegantly Dressed, Amidst The Semi-Nakedness Of The Rest Of The Female Fashionables.

Whilst, in a dress that one might swear
The whole was made of woven air,
Pert Fashion spreads her senseless sway
Over the giddy and the gay
(Who think, by showing all their charms,
Lovers will fly into their arms),
In thee shall Wit and Virtue find
A friend more genial to their mind;
And Modesty shall gain in thee
A surer, chaster, victory.

John Carr

The Lion In Love.

^[1]

To Mademoiselle De Sévigné.^[2]

Sévigné, type of every grace
In female form and face,
In your regardlessness of men,
Can you show favour when
The sportive fable craves your ear,
And see, unmoved by fear,
A lion's haughty heart
Thrust through by Love's audacious dart?
Strange conqueror, Love! And happy he,
And strangely privileged and free,
Who only knows by story
Him and his feats of glory!
If on this subject you are wont
To think the simple truth too blunt,
The fabulous may less affront;
Which now, inspired with gratitude,
Yea, kindled into zeal most fervent,
Doth venture to intrude
Within your maiden solitude,
And kneel, your humble servant. -
In times when animals were speakers,
Among t...

Jean de La Fontaine

Lines On Lady W ---- Appearing At The Exhibition.

When lovely Delphine sought the crowded scene,
The painter's mimic pow'r no longer mov'd;
All turn'd to gaze upon her beauteous mien,
None envied her, for, as they look'd, they lov'd.

Amid the proud display of forms so fair,
Of each fine tint the pencil can impart,
Nature with rapture seem'd to lead her there,
To prove how she could triumph over Art.

John Carr

Impromptu Lines, Upon Anacreon Moore's Saying That He Disliked Singing To Men.

By Beauty's caresses, like Cupid, half-spoil'd,
Thus Music's and Poesy's favourite child
Exclaim'd, - "'Tis, by Heaven! a terrible thing
Before a he-party to sit and to sing!"
"By my shoul! Master Moore, you there may be right,"
Said a son of green Erin; "tho' dear to my sight
Are all the sweet cratures, call'd women, I swear,
Yet I think we can feel just as well as the fair:
Tho' you'd bribe us with songs, blood and 'ounds! let me say,
I'd not be a woman for one in your way."

John Carr

To This Moment A Rebel

To this moment a rebel I throw down my arms,
Great Love, at first sight of Olinda's bright charms.
Make proud and secure by such forces as these,
You may now play the tyrant as soon as you please.

When Innocence, Beauty, and Wit do conspire
To betray, and engage, and inflame my Desire,
Why should I decline what I cannot avoid?
And let pleasing Hope by base Fear be destroyed?

Her innocence cannot contrive to undo me,
Her beauty's inclined, or why should it pursue me?
And Wit has to Pleasure been ever a friend,
Then what room for Despair, since Delight is Love's end?

There can be no danger in sweetness and youth,
Where Love is secured by good nature and truth;
On her beauty I'll gaze and of pleasure complain
While every kind look adds a link to my c...

John Wilmot

Paris Day By Day: A Familiar Epistle - (To Mrs. Henry Harland[1])

Paris, half Angel, half Grisette,
I would that I were with thee yet,
Where the long boulevard at even
Stretches its starry lamps to heaven,
And whispers from a thousand trees
Vague hints of the Hesperides.

Once more, once more, my heart, to sit
With Aline's smile and Harry's wit,
To sit and sip the cloudy green,
With dreamy hints of speech between;

Or, may be, flashing all intent
At call of some stern argument,
When the New Woman fain would be,
Like the Old Male, her husband, free.
The prose-man takes his mighty lyre
And talks like music set on fire!

The while the merry crowd slips by
Glittering and glancing to the eye,
All happy lovers on their way
To make a golden end of day -
Ah! Café truly called La Paix!
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Richard Le Gallienne