Classic Poem

On this resemblance, where we find
A portrait drawn for all mankind,
Fond lover! gaze awhile, to see
What beauty's idol charms shall be.
Where are the balls that once could dart
Quick lightning through the wounded heart?
The skin, whose tint could once unite
The glowing red, and polished white?
The lip in brighter ruby dressed?
The cheek with dimpled smiles impressed?
The rising front, where Beauty sate
Throned in her residence of state;
Which, half-disclosed and half-concealed,
The hair in flowing ringlets veiled?
'Tis vanished all! remains alone
The eyeless scalp of naked bone;
The vacant orbits sunk within;
The jaw that offers at a grin.
Is this the object then that claims
The tribute of our youthful flames?
Must amorous hopes and fancied bliss,
Too dear delusions, end in this?
How high does Melancholy swell!
Which sighs can more than language tell;
Till Love can only grieve or fear:
Reflect awhile, then drop a tear
For all that's beautiful and dear.