Part 4 — ON A REJECTED NOSEGAY, OFFERED BY THE AUTHOR TO A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY, WHO RETURNED IT. PUNCH.
Reading edition
What! then you won't accept it, wont you? Oh! No matter; pshaw! my heart is breaking, though. My bouquet is rejected; let it be: For what am I to you, or you to me? 'Tis true I once had hoped; but now, alas! Well, well; 'tis over now, and let it pass. I was a fool—perchance I am so still; You won't accept it! Let me dream you will: But that were idle. Shall we meet again? Why should we? Water for my burning brain? I could have loved thee—Could! I love thee yet Can only Lethe teach me to forget? Oblivion's balm, oh tell me where to find! Is it a tenant of the anguish'd mind? Or is it?—ha! at last I see it come; Waiter! a bottle of your oldest rum.