Yes; I know what I am. Have outlasted my season
Of pleasure and folly.--You think it is strange
That I let you, say--love me? But why not?--my reason
Requires illusions. They give me that change
Which quiets remembrance. You kiss me--I wonder.--
When you say, "You are beautiful,"--well, am I glad
If I laugh?--You declaim on my form, "How no blunder
Of nature discords,"--If I sigh, am I sad?
V
How you stare at my eyes!--Well! my lips!--must they languish
For kisses to redden?--"My eyes are as bright
As the jewel I drown in my hair, with its anguish
Of tortuous fire that quivers to-night"?
Tears may be.--This showy?--That silly white flower
Were better?--For me its simplicity? no!--
The gem I prefer to the lily.--The hour
Has struck: I am ready: my fan: let us go.