港片嘲讽富家女

New vestals claim men's eyes with the same praise
Of 'elegant' et caetera, in fresh batches—
All matchless creatures, and yet bent on matches.
But now I will begin my poem. 'T is
Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new,
That from the firs of Cantos up to this
I 've not begun what we have to go through.
These firs twelve books are merely flourishes
Preludios, trying just a string or two
Upon my lyre, or making the pegs sure;
And when so, you shall have the overture.
My Muses do not care a pinch of rosin