O Fame! if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover The thought that I was not unworthy to love her.
Dear Doctor, I have read your play, / Which is a good one in its way, - / Purges the eyes and moves the bowels, / And drenches handkerchiefs like towels.
Oh! too convincing -- dangerously dear -- In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!