'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we 're far from the lips we love, We 've but to make love to the lips we are near.
Since all the maids are good and lovable, from whence come the bad wives?
Man, while he loves, is never quite depraved.
Do not fold, spindle or mutilate.
My only books Were woman's looks,- And folly 's all they 've taught me.
Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.