The Advertisers' Love Anthology

There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies blow;
Nor wind nor sunshine shall erase
That coat of SMITH'S ENAMEL-O.


Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?
Why not all thy countenance cover
With a TINTO VEIL?
Prithee, why so pale?


Believe me, if all mine enduring young charms,
Which you gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to fade by this evening, pray have no alarms
While I still have my ROSY SACHET.
I should still be a peach, as I am in all truth,
For my beauty is far from a dream,
Just as long as I hold to my beauty and youth
With this grand HERCULANEUM CREAM.
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