Parerga/The General Admirer
< Parerga
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I own that my habits admit no defence,
Nor to speak in their favour pretend;
I admit all your charges, acknowledge their sense,
But, alas! cannot cease to offend.
I possess no more power to subdue my desires
Than straws have the torrent above;
Nor is it one only this bosom that fires,
But, oh! there are hundreds I love.
Nor to speak in their favour pretend;
I admit all your charges, acknowledge their sense,
But, alas! cannot cease to offend.
I possess no more power to subdue my desires
Than straws have the torrent above;
Nor is it one only this bosom that fires,
But, oh! there are hundreds I love.
If I see a fair girl with a down-gazing eye,
Her modesty's ruin to me.—
Is she free? I'm enraptured, and think, with a sigh,
How amusing and pleasant she'll be.—
Are her manners repulsive?—'tis merely pretence,
To dissemble a favouring will.—
Has she brains? I admire her.—If wanting in sense,
Her simplicity pleases me still.
Her modesty's ruin to me.—
Is she free? I'm enraptured, and think, with a sigh,
How amusing and pleasant she'll be.—
Are her manners repulsive?—'tis merely pretence,
To dissemble a favouring will.—
Has she brains? I admire her.—If wanting in sense,
Her simplicity pleases me still.
One calls all my poems the best in the world;—
Of course where I'm praised, I adore.
But some pretty lips are in ridicule curled,
Which provokes me to love them the more.
One's feet want the grace where another excels—
She'd walk better were I by her side:
Another-one's throat, whence such melody swells,
I think I could kiss till I died.
Of course where I'm praised, I adore.
But some pretty lips are in ridicule curled,
Which provokes me to love them the more.
One's feet want the grace where another excels—
She'd walk better were I by her side:
Another-one's throat, whence such melody swells,
I think I could kiss till I died.
When one with her fingers runs over the notes,
My heart throbs with love at the sound;
In the dance when the form of another one floats,
My pulses in ecstasy bound.
Is she tall?—I admire an imperial mien:
If short, she looks pretty and sweet:
I am charm'd with her splendour, if drest like a queen;
I like her if simple and neat.
My heart throbs with love at the sound;
In the dance when the form of another one floats,
My pulses in ecstasy bound.
Is she tall?—I admire an imperial mien:
If short, she looks pretty and sweet:
I am charm'd with her splendour, if drest like a queen;
I like her if simple and neat.
I dote on the maid whose complexion is fair;
No less I admire a brunette:
I glow when I gaze on the bright golden hair;
I delight in the ringlets of jet.
Old and young both can please me. One charms by her face;
In her mind lies another's attraction;
In short, not a Beauty can come to the place,
But I love her—aye, love to distraction!
No less I admire a brunette:
I glow when I gaze on the bright golden hair;
I delight in the ringlets of jet.
Old and young both can please me. One charms by her face;
In her mind lies another's attraction;
In short, not a Beauty can come to the place,
But I love her—aye, love to distraction!