Classic Poem

In what Elysium's consecrated scene
Was Nature's pride and Beauty's model fram'd?
Not of Earth's mould the offspring should be nam'd,
Or in the vesture of decay be seen; —
What Fountain's Nymph that pac'd the margin green,
Or sprung of Sylvan Loves (though oft' unblam'd
Their tresses with Hyperion vied, and claim'd
The daring contest) shall of Beauty's Queen
(Who Laura's image for her mirrour chose)
The lustre emulate? Around her feet
In airy dance their flight the Lovers play'd;
Her eyes with temper'd beam and feign'd repose
Allur'd me — till her breath's enchantment sweet
My senses rifled — and my heart betray'd.