Incipit
To Mistress Sophia Simple, Queen of the Cinema (With humblest apologies to Randolph St. John, Gent.) L. Theobald, Jun. Before our sight your mobile face Depicts your joys or woes distracting; We marvel at your winsome grace— And wish you’d learn the art of acting! Your eyes, we vow, surpass the stars; Your mouth is like the bow of Cupid; Your rose-ting’d cheeks no wrinkle mars— Yet why are you so sweetly stupid? The hore views you with delight, To win your hand forever working; We pity him—the witless wight— To fall a victim to your smirking! And yet, why should we wail in rhyme …
123 mots · Poésie · texte intégral sur Wikisource.
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