Longer calls!
How very much embarrassment that twirling thumb recalls,!
Though through the balmy air of night
They will predict a sweet delight!
And from all those pink-edged notes
Received this noon,
What hope so sweetly cherished floats
To the love-worn maid that listens while she gloats
On the moon!
O, during one of those "elegant" calls,
What a mass of compliments that bashful caller drawls!
How he bawls!
How it appalls
A mother's ears! How glad he crawls
Into his carriage, - for other halls,
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Lectures on English Novelists.