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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"


God forgive me, I'm not much inclined, I must say,
To go and sit still to be preached at to-day.
And besides--'twill be all against dancing, no doubt,
Which my poor Aunt abhors with such hatred devout,
That so far from presenting young nymphs with a head,
For their skill in the dance, as of Herod is said,
She'd wish their own heads in the platter instead.
There again--coming, Ma'am!--I'll write more, if I can,
Before the post goes,
Your affectionate Fan.
_Four o'clock_.
Such a sermon!--tho' _not_ about dancing, my dear;
'Twas only on the end of the world being near.
Eighteen Hundred and Forty's the year that some state
As the time for that accident--some Forty Eight[1]
And I own, of the two, I'd prefer much the latter,
As then I shall be an old maid, and 'twon't matter.
Once more, love, good-by--I've to make a new cap;
But am now so dead tired with this horrid mishap
Of the end of the world that I _must_ take a nap.

[1] With regard to the exact time of this event, there appears to be a
difference only of about two or three years among the respective
calculators. M. Alphonse Nicole, Docteur en Droit. et Avocat, merely
doubts whether it is to be in 1846 or 1847.



LETTER IV.
FROM PATRICK MAGAN, ESQ., TO THE REV. RICHARD ----.


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