To Mrs. Joyce P

T HOUGH you are not as yet a maiden aunt ,
I am, alas! too safe as a Gallant .
In Friendship I have spirits ever young,
With unexampled vigour they are strung:
But you are nice, and catch the Palace air
From its deaf Stanhopes, Thomas , and Fauquere .
" Your Agent? " will the Governor consent?
Or Cook forget the sums that I have spent?
" Your Confessor? " 'twill never do, my dear;
I keep a sieve in waiting at my ear.
" Your Jester? " No, 'tis coarse, and worries Kitty ,
Her Lovibond was classical and witty.
Thus failing three , dread quarter of a dozen,
Hope smiles upon a fourth — I 'll be
Your C OUSIN .
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.