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BEAUT IS VAIN.
Let bygones be bygones:
Don't call me false, who owed not to be true:
I'd rather answer "No," to fifty Johns
Than answer "Yes," to you.
Don't call me false, who owed not to be true:
I'd rather answer "No," to fifty Johns
Than answer "Yes," to you.
Let's mar our pleasant days no more,
Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at to-day, forget the days before:
I'll wink at your untruth.
Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at to-day, forget the days before:
I'll wink at your untruth.
Let us strike hands as hearty friends;
No more, no less; and friendship's good:
Only don't keep in view ulterior ends,
And points not understood
No more, no less; and friendship's good:
Only don't keep in view ulterior ends,
And points not understood
In open treaty. Rise above
Quibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,—
No, thank you, John.
Quibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,—
No, thank you, John.
BEAUTY IS VAIN.
WHILE roses are so red,
While lilies are so white
Shall a woman exalt her face
Because it gives delight?
She's not so sweet as a rose,
A lily's straighter than she,
And if she were as red or white
She'd be but one of three.
While lilies are so white
Shall a woman exalt her face
Because it gives delight?
She's not so sweet as a rose,
A lily's straighter than she,
And if she were as red or white
She'd be but one of three.
