The Suitors.

A poem by George Pope Morris

Wealth sought the bower of Beauty,
Dressed like a modern beau:
Just then Love, Health, and Duty
Took up their hats to go.
Wealth such a cordial welcome met,
As made the others grieve;
So Duty shunned the gay coquette,
Love, pouting, took French leave--
He did!
Love, pouting, took French leave!

Old Time, the friend of Duty,
Next called to see the fair;
He laid his hand on Beauty,
And left her in despair
Wealth vanished!--Last went rosy Health--
And she was doomed to prove
That those who Duty slight for Wealth,
Can never hope for Love!
Ah, no!
Can never hope for Love!

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