When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare. |
When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare. |
When matters are desperate we must put on a desperate face. |
While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things, The fate of empires and the fall of kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit |
Ye hypocrites! are these your pranks? To Murder men, and give God thanks? Desist for same! proceed no further: God won't accept your thanks for Murther! |
Your lines, I maintain it, are poetry, and good poetry.... Friendship... had I been so blest as to have met with you in time, might have led me — God of love only knows where. |