VINEGAR BITTERS

"Something light as air, a look,
A word unkind or wrongly taken-
O! love that tempests never shook,
A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
And ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin,
And eyes forget the gentle ray
They wore in courtship's smiling day,
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they said;
Till, fast declining, one by one
The sweetness of love are gone."

Author Unknown
1874 Almanac