First reckon he that of the twainTo count alone were fain to bringThe many thousand joys.Play as ye please: soon prove ye deftAt babying babes,—'twere ill design'dA name thus ancient should be leftHeirless, but issue like of kindEngendered aye should be.A wee Torquaitus fain I'd seeEncradled on his mother's breastPut forth his tender puds while heSmiles to his sire with sweetest gestAnd liplets half apart.Let son like father's semblance show(Manlius!) so with easy guessAll know him where his sire they know,And still his face and form expressHis mother's honest love.Approve shall fair approof his birthFrom mother's seed-stock generous,As rarest fame of mother's worthUnique exalts TelemachusPenelope's own son.Fast close the door-leaves, virgin band:Enow we've played. But ye the fair