‘You have my heart so sweetly seiz’d, And I confess, nay, ’tis my pride That I’m with you so solely pleased, That, if I’m pleased with aught beside, As music, or the month of June, My friend’s devotion, or his wit, A rose, a rainbow, or the moon, It is that you illustrate it. All these are parts, you are the whole; You fit the taste for Paradise, To which your charms draw up the soul As turning spirals draw the eyes. Nature to you was more than kind; ’Twas fond perversity to dress So much simplicity of mind In such a pomp of loveliness! But, praising you, the fancy deft Flies wide, and lets the quarry stray, And, when all’s said, there’s something left, And that’s the thing I meant to say.’ ‘Dear Felix!’ ‘Sweet, my Love!’ But there Was Aunt Maude’s noisy ring and knock! ‘Stay, Felix; you have caught my hair. Stoop! Thank you!’ ‘May I have that lock?’ ‘Not now. Good morning, Aunt!’ ‘Why, Puss, You look magnificent to-day.’ ‘Here’s Felix, Aunt.’ ‘Fox and green goose! Who handsome gets should handsome pay! Aunt, you are friends!’ ‘Ah, to be sure! Good morning! Go on flattering, sir; A woman, like the Koh-i-noor, Mounts to the price that’s put on her.’ CANTO IX. The Friends. PRELUDES. I. _The Nursling of Civility_. LO, how the woman once was woo’d; Forth leapt the savage from his lair, And fell’d her, and to nuptials rude He dragg’d her, bleeding, by the hair. From that to Chloe’s dainty wiles And Portia’s dignified consent, What distance! Bat these Pagan styles How far below Time’s fair intent! Siegfried sued Kriemhild. Sweeter life Could Love’s self covet? Yet ’tis snug In what rough sort he chid his wife For want of curb upon her tongue! Shall Love, where last I leave him, halt? Nay; none can fancy or forsee To how strange bliss may time exalt This nursling of civility. II. _The Foreign Land_. A woman is a foreign land, Of which, though there he settle young, A man will ne’er quite understand The customs, politics, and tongue. The foolish hie them post-haste through, See fashions odd, and prospects fair, Learn of the language, ‘How d’ye do,’ And go and brag they have been there. The most for leave to trade apply, For once, at Empire’s seat, her heart, Then get what knowledge ear and eye Glean chancewise in the life-long mart. And certain others, few and fit, Attach them to the Court, and see The Country’s best, its accent hit, And partly sound its polity. III. _Disappointment_. ‘The bliss which woman’s charms bespeak, I’ve sought in many, found in none!’ ‘In many ’tis in vain you seek What only can be found in one.’ THE FRIENDS. 1