7. I would rather wed a man of dough,

Such as some school-girl, when the pie is made,

To amuse her childish fancy, kneads at hazard

Out of the remnant paste.

  8. Thou, with a lofty soul, whose course

The thoughtless oft condemn,

Art touch'd by many airs from heaven

Which never breathe on them.

Moved too by many impulses,

Which they do never know,

Who round their earth-bound circles plod

The dusty paths below.

  9. You look the whole world in the face,

For you owe not any man.

10. You loiter, lounge, are lank and lazy,

Though nothing ails you, yet uneasy;

Your days insipid, dull, and tasteless,

Your nights unquiet, long, and restless;

And e'en your sports at balls and races,

Your galloping through public places,

Have sic parade, and pomp, and art,

The joy can scarcely reach the heart.

11. Thou'st never bent at glory's shrine,

To wealth thou'st never bow'd the knee,

Beauty has heard no vows of thine,

Thou lovest ease.

12. A gentleman of all Temperance.

13. You are positive and fretful,

Heedless, ignorant, forgetful.

14. There is one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,

The secret of their mastery—they're short.

15. For contemplation framed,

Shy and unpractised in the strife of phrase,

Yours is the language of the heavens, the power,

The thought, the image, and the silent joy.

Words are but under-agents in your soul.

16. You take delight in others' excellence,

A gift which nature rarely doth dispense;

Of all that breathe, 'tis you, perhaps, alone,

Would be well pleased to see yourself outdone.

17. You are the Punch to stir up trouble,

You wriggle, fidge, and make a riot,

Put all your brother puppets out.

18. You'd shake hands with a king upon his throne,

And think it kindness to his majesty.

19. The meanest thing, earth's feeblest worm,

You fear to scorn or hate;

But honor in a peasant's form

The equal of the great.

20. You may be thrown among the gay and reckless sons of life,

But will not love the revel scene or head the brawling strife.

21. You are one,

Who can play off your smiles and courtesies

To every lady, of her lap-dog tired,

Who wants a plaything.

22. Come, rouse thee now;—I know thy mind,

And would its strength awaken;

Proud, gifted, noble, ardent, kind.

23. In choice

Of morsels for the body, nice are you,

And scrupulous;—

And every composition know

Of cookery.

24. A man thou seem'st of cheerful yesterdays,

And confident to-morrows.

25. Sir, I confess you to be one well read

In men and manners, and that usually

The most ungovern'd persons, you being present,

Rather subject themselves unto your censure,

Than give you least occasion of distaste,

By making you the subject of their mirth.

26. When nae real ills perplex you,

You make enow yoursel' to vex you.

27. You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

28. Calm, serene,

Your thoughts are clear and honest, and your words,

Still chosen most gently, are not yet disguised

To please the ear of tingling vanity.

29. Large is your bounty, and your soul sincere;

Heaven does a recompense as largely send:

You give to misery all you have—a tear;

You gain from heaven, 'tis all you ask—a