Friday, February 1, 2013

On A Venerable Beau


Still hovering round the fair at sixty-four
Unfit for love, unable to give o’re.
A flesh fly, that just flutters on the wing,
Awake to buzz, but not alive to sting;
Brisk where he cannot, backward where he can, 
The teasing ghost of the departed man.

David Mallet 18th cen.

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