Tales and Novels of J. de La Fontaine — Volume 08 by Jean de La Fontaine
page 11 of 22 (50%)
page 11 of 22 (50%)
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But to the point advanced without delay;
Cried he, I've neither time nor place to say What I could wish, and useless 'twere to seek Expressions that but indirectly speak The sentiments which animate the soul; In terms direct, 'tis better state the whole. THUS circumstanced, fair lady, let me, pray; To you at once, my adoration pay; No words my admiration can express; Your charms enslave my senses, I confess; Can you suppose to answer would be wrong? Too much good sense to you should now belong; Had I the leisure, I'd in form disclose The tender flame with which my bosom glows; Each horrid torment; but by Fate denied Blessed opportunities, let me not hide, While moments offer, what pervades my heart, And openly avow the burning smart Few minutes I have got to travel o'er What gen'rally requires six months or more. Cold is that lover who will not pursue, With ev'ry ardour, beauty, when in view. But why this silence?--not a word you say! You surely will not send me thus away! That heav'n, an angel made you, none deny; But still, to what is asked you should reply. Your husband this contrived I plainly see, Who fancies that replies were not to be, Since in our bargain they were never named; |
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