IV

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IV

Though beauty he no more adored,

He still made love in a queer way;

Rebuffed⁠—as quickly reassured,

Jilted⁠—glad of a holiday.

Without enthusiasm he met

The fair, nor parted with regret,

Scarce mindful of their love and guile.

Thus a guest with composure will

To take a hand at whist oft come:

He takes his seat, concludes his game,

And straight returning whence he came,

Tranquilly goes to sleep at home,

And in the morning doth not know

Whither that evening he will go.