Will love's sublime persistence
Solve for you, in the usual way,
The riddle of existence?

Alas! love is not love to-day,
But just a bargain made,
In cold and calculating way;
And if the price be paid,
A man may win the fairest face,
A maiden tall and queenly,
The daughter of some ancient race,
Who sells herself serenely.

What wonder that the cynic sneers
At such a rule of life;
That, after but a few short years,
Dissension should be rife.
Ah! Lady, you'll avoid heart-ache,
And scorn of bard satiric,
If haply you should deign to take
A lesson from our lyric.

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[Illustration: IMITATION THE SINCEREST FLATTERY.

(_Effects of a Long Session in the House._)]

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