flora’s dial. 139 
(October 16. 
SPLIT REED. — Folly. 
When first I saw your face so heavenly fair, 
With eyes so bright, and with that awful air, 
I thought my heart, which durst so high aspire, 
Bolder than his who snatched celestial fire. 
But soon as e’er the beauteous idiot spoke, 
Forth from her coral bps such folly broke, 
Like halm, the trickling nonsense healed my wound, 
And what her eyes enthralled, her tongue unbound. 
Congreve. 
(October 17. 
REED. — Single Blessedness. 
I have no wife! — Who’d have his nose 
Forever tied to one lone flower, — 
E’en though that flower should be a rose, 
Plucked with light hand from fairy bower? 
Oh, better far the bright bouquet, 
Of flowers of every clime and hue, 
By turns to charm the mind away, 
And fragrance in the heart renew. Anon. 
