Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A

Who Know But He, Whose Hand The Lightning Forms, Who Heaves Old Ocean, And Who Wings The Storms, Pours Fierce Ambition In A Caesar's Mind.

Seas Roll To Waft Me, Suns To Light Me Rise; My Footstool Earth, My Canopy The Skies.

In Various Talk Th' Instructive Hours They Past, Who Gave The Ball, Or Paid The Visit Last; One Speaks The Glory Of The British Queen, And One Describes A Charming Indian Screen; A Third Interprets Motions, Looks, And Eyes; At Every Word A Reputation Dies.

No, Make Me Mistress To The Man I Love; If There Be Yet Another Name More Free More Fond Than Mistress, Make Me That To Thee!

Horses (thou Say'st) And Asses Men May Try, And Ring Suspected Vessels Ere They Buy; But Wives, A Random Choice, Untried They Take; They Dream In Courtship, But In Wedlock Wake; Then, Nor Till Then, The Veil's Removed Away, And All The Woman Glares In Open Day.