— Charlotte Turner Smith“Friendship, 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 proverb—"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 not—but he coolly walks away.”
Love