Shall I compare thee to a dew kiss't rose ?
Thou art forsooth as prickly as its thorns
But thou hast not as delicate a nose
Thy feet are ripe and bearing many corns
Thou dost appear as livid, 'tis so true
As rose of deepest red, near purple hue
Tho' in thy case 'tis likely to be due
To fondness for the local landlord's brew
So art thou some of nature's finest craft ?
A beauteous work, a pleasure to behold ?
Find one who says 'tis so and has not laugh't
And I shall surely show thee liar bold .
By Pauline
