She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. It was the grand nursery of vice. Still—you must learn for yourself. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. But she was not to be tempted.
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