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Poem by John Cunningham On Gold BEAUTY'S a bawble, a trifle in price! 'Tis glass, or 'tis something as glaring; But set it in gold — 'tis so wonderful nice, That a prince should be proud in the wearing. How feeble the transport when passion is gone! How pall'd when the honey-moon's over! When kissing — and cooing — and toying, are done, 'Tis Gold must enliven the lover. John Cunningham John Cunningham's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1223 Views |
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