Stirreth ever more the string

Of some fond imagining,

Is'nt this, Flavilla!—grant

Is'nt this to be piquant?

If when deeplier we would look

Into that half-open book,

Thou dost close it, Slyest Saint!

More to tempt us by restraint;

Is'nt this, Flavilla!-grant

Is'nt this to be piquant ?

Would we know what else may serve

This- -thy mantle of reserve

Whether thou dost shroud in it

Loving thoughts, for lady fit,

Or but some provoking wit

If, with pretty, wilful dealing,

Now close veiled-now part revealing

Thou, like some coquettish nun,

Mockest still our fancies on;

Then, just as we had hoped to win

Way the parlour-nook within,

Coolly turning, bidd'st us wait

Thy pleasure at the outer grate;

Isn't this, Flavilla!-grant

Isn't this to be piquant?

APPARITIONS.

IF, as they say, the Dead erewhile return,
Sent or permitted, from their shadowy bourn;
Yet not, or so we trust, shall every ghost,
In his old guise, reclaim our mortal coast.
Let Spurio, if once more among us thrown,
Come back in any shape-except his own.
While, Phyllis! you, the frank and debonnair, –
Do

you return-the very thing you were.

THE GREEK WIFE.