"L'Amitié est l'Amour sans ailes."
IP, as some sage poet sings,
Is chasten'd Love, depriv'd of wings,
Without all wish or power to wander;
Less volatile, but not less tender:
Yet says the proverbs"Sly and slow "Love creeps, even where he cannot go;" To clip his pinions then is vain,
His old propensities remain; And she, who years beyond fifteen,
Has counted twenty, may have seen How rarely unplum'd Love will stay;
He flies notbut he coolly walks away.
