Classic Poem

IN HER TEMPLE AT STOWE .

To the Same.

I.

Fair Venus! whose delightful shrine surveys
Its front reflected in the silver lake,
These humble off'rings which thy servant pays,
Fresh flow'rs and myrtle wreaths, propitious take.

II.

If less my love exceeds all other love
Than Lucy's charms all other charms excel,
Far from my breast each soothing hope remove,
And there let sad Despair for ever dwell.

III.

But if my soul is fill'd with her alone,
No other wish nor other object knows,
Oh, make her, Goddess! make her all my own,
And give my trembling heart secure repose!

IV.

No watchful spies I ask to guard her charms,
No walls of brass, no steel-defended door;
Place her but once within my circling arms,
Love's surest fort, and I will doubt no more.