Imatges de pÓgina
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Those languid eyes remove,
Whofe charms my senses might surprise,

And tempt my heart to Love;


The Though Love's gentle power can more sweetness

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vale, Give their dyes to the meadows, their sweets to the

gale, From the sun-beam, the shower, and the soft-falling


Receive all their treasures of odour, and hue.

When Winter extends his tyrannical reign,

Fades every gay blossom that painted the plain, And all the bright offspring of sunshine and


Shrink up at the blast of December's stern hours,

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Than the vi'let or woodbine, the jasmine or rose,

Yet none of them holds so precarious perfume,

A texture so tender, so fleeting a bloom.

All it's sweetness it draws like the Daughters of MAY From Pity's soft dew, and from Kindness' mild ray, Like them it will shrink from the frost of Disdain, But never like them will it blossom again.


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See the varying hours display
Morning, Evening, Night, and Day,
See the circling seasons bring

Summer, Winter, Autumn, Spring.

Shall the river's current full

Idly sleep a ftagnate pool,

Shall the pedant's mandate bind
The rapid wave, the fleeting wind.

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