"A flirt is like a dipper attached to a hydrant; every one is at liberty to drink from it, but no one desires to carry it away."
"I'm weary of my lonely but And of its blasted tree, The very lake is like my lot, So silent constantly-- I've liv'd amid the forest gloom Until I almost fear-- When will the thrilling voices come My spirit thirsts to hear?"
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Source: Nathaniel Parker Willis (1856). “The poems, sacred, passionate, and humorous, of Nathaniel Parker Willis”, p.238
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