Classic Poem

When Nature view'd her noblest work with pride,
She said, " O love! this finished piece observe,
Is there a heart to thee so firm allied,
That will unblemish'd these fine traits preserve? "
" Already portray'd with this dove-plum'd dart
On one my brightest, purest flames sublime, —
The fair resemblance glows in — — 's heart,
Safe from th' obliterating hand of time:
In vain shall fate her faithful bosom rend,
And rack her gentle frame with pangs severe, —
Her heart will to its latest throb defend
The perfect image love has treasured there;
Then glory Nature, in thy work divine,
My prouder boast shall be its sacred shrine . "