The wife was pretty, trifling, childish, weak;She could not think, but would not cease to speak. Tales (1812)
See Time has touched me gently in his race,And left no odious furrows in my face. Tales of the Hall (1819)
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,To find such numbers who will serve instead:And in whatever state a man be thrown,'Tis that precisely they would wish their own. Tales (1812)