Words Are Like Leaves; And Where They

Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.

At Ev'ry Word A Reputation Dies.

Now Warm In Love, Now With'ring In My Bloom Lost In A Convent's Solitary Gloom!

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

She Who Ne'er Answers Till A Husband Cools, Or, If She Rules Him, Never Shows She Rules; Charms By Accepting, By Submitting, Sways, Yet Has Her Humor Most, When She Obeys.