At the end of the evening I addressed a few
words to her, of the value of which she seemed sensible. I was
introduced, "by particular desire," to Mrs. Wyndham Lewis, a pretty
little woman, a flirt and a rattle; indeed, gifted with a volubility I
should think unequalled, and of which I can convey no idea. She told me
that she liked "silent, melancholy men." I answered that "I had no doubt
of it."
KNOWSLEY OR THE PARTHENON
[Sidenote: _Disraeli to Mrs. Brydges Willyams (1862)_]
They say the Greeks, resolved to have an English King, in consequence of
the refusal of Prince Alfred to be their monarch, intend to elect Lord
Stanley. If he accepts the charge, I shall lose a powerful friend and
colleague. It is a dazzling adventure for the House of Stanley, but they
are not an imaginative race, and I fancy they will prefer Knowsley to
the Parthenon, and Lancashire to the Attic plains. It is a privilege to
live in this age of rapid and brilliant events. What an error to
consider it a utilitarian age! It is one of infinite romance. Thrones
tumble down, and crowns are offered like a fairy tale; and the most
powerful people in the world, male and female, a few years ago were
adventurers, exiles, and demireps.
JENNY KISSED ME
[Sidenote: _Leigh Hunt_]
Jenny kissed me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in:
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.
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