Love And Hymen.

Love had a fever—ne'er could close His little eyes till day was breaking; And wild and strange enough, Heaven knows, The things he raved about while waking. To let him pine so were a sin;— One to whom all the world's a debtor— So Doctor Hymen was called in, And Love that night slept rather better. Next day the case gave further hope yet, Tho' still some ugly fever latent;— "Dose, as before"—a gentle opiate. For which old Hymen has a patent. After a month of daily call, So fast the dose went on restoring, That Love, who first ne'er slept at all, Now took, the rogue! to downright snoring.