At the Sign of the Lyre

- I see you passing yet,? Ah, what could I within do, When, Rose, our glances met! Ad Rosam. You snared me, Rose, with ribbons, Your rose-mouth made me thrall, Brief?briefer far than Gibbon's, Was my " Decline and Fall." I heard the summons spoken That all hear?king and clown : You smiled?the ice was broken ; You stopped?the bill was down. How blind we are ! It never Occurred to me to seek If you had come forever, Or only for a week. The words your voice neglected, Seemed written in your eyes ; The thought your heart protected, Your cheek told, missal-wise ;? I read the rubric plainly As any Expert could ; In short, we dreamed,?insanely, As only lovers should. I broke the tall CEnone, That then my chambers graced, Ad Rosam. Because she seemed " too bony," To suit your purist taste ; And you, without vexation, May certainly confess Some graceful approbation, Designed a mon adresse. You liked me then, farina,? You liked me then, I think ; For your sake gall had been a Mere tonic-cup to drink ; For your sake, bonds were trivial, The rack, a tour-de-force ; And banishment, convivial,? Your coming too, of course. Then, Rose, a word in jest meant Would throw you in a state That no well-timed investment Could quite alleviate ; Beyond a Paris trousseau You prized my smile, I know, I, yours?ah, more than Rousseau The lip of d'Houdetot. Ad Rosam. Then, ...