Classic Poem

Who can behold fair Laura's face
But with admiring eyes;
Where nature copied ev'ry grace
From angels in the skies!

But yet her charms are not confin'd
To tints that must decay;
The rival beauties of her mind,
Are brighter far than they.

Whoe'er that happy man shall be,
By Heav'n approv'd, belov'd by thee!
Who gains thy world of charms;
May he the precious gift adore,
Convinc'd that fate can give no more,
When circled in thy arms!