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The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero)/Poetry/Volume 7/Lucietta. A Fragment


Lucietta, my deary,
That fairest of faces!
Is made up of kisses;
But, in love, oft the case is
Even stranger than this is—
There's another, that's slyer,
Who touches me nigher,—
A Witch, an intriguer,
Whose manner and figure
Now piques me, excites me,
Torments and delights me—

Cœtera desunt.
[From an autograph MS. in the possession of
Mr. Murray, now for the first time printed.]