A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

I Know A Lady That Loves To Talk So Incessantly, She Won't Give An Echo Fair Play; She Has That Everlasting Rotation Of Tongue That An Echo Must Wait Till She Dies Before It Can Catch Her Last Words!

A Little Scorn Is Alluring.

Beauty Is The Lover's Gift.

Words Are The Weak Support Of Cold Indifference; Love Has No Language To Be Heard.

I Am A Fool, I Know It; And Yet, Heaven Help Me, I'm Poor Enough To Be A Wit.