Classic Poem

Though oft the poet has been blam'd
For flatt'ry's odious crime;
Sure I, who ne'er the title claim'd,
May speak the truth in rhyme.

'Tis not Maria's face I prize,
Her manners greater charms display:
The lustre may forsake her eyes,
Her sweetness never will decay!

Not that her features want the grace,
A boundless passion to inspire;
The roses blooming on her face
Might set an Anchorite on fire!

Let Greece her Helen's beauty boast,
Which drove a madding world to arms;
That Fair-one ne'er had left her coast,
Had Paris known Maria's charms!