ELEGY , TO MARIA M.

Come, gentle mistress of my tender heart,
And let us Spring's expanding beauties trace;
But, all her vivid tints can ne'er impart
Such pleasure as thy health-illumin'd face.

My dearest love! thy blush, of rosy hue —
Thy timid glance, and modest down-cast eyes,
Appear more lovely to my raptur'd view
Than Spring's soft smile, that Nature beautifies.

So, Venus blush'd, emerging from the main,
When her enchanting graces rose to light —
So looks Aurora o'er the dewy plain,
When her effulgence triumphs over Night.

I love to chaunt my youthful charmer's praise,
Press thy soft hand, or hear thy dulcet voice —
I love to view my fair, with studious gaze,
Whilst thy soft blandishments my heart rejoice.

Come, with the bloom of Hebe in thy cheek,
Thy light-brown hair, and eyes of azure hue —
Come, lightly range o'er the fresh mead, and seek
The sweetest flow'rets, gemm'd with sparkling dew.

Behold, my love! the variegated bloom
With which unclouded Light the field pourtrays;
Tho' fair their forms, and pleasant their perfume,
Thy perfect frame more elegance displays.

If aught on earth my soul could idolize,
To thee I would implicit homage pay —
To thee! whose smiles my eager sight surprize
With transient glimpses of celestial Day.

But Reason, conscious that those charms must fade,
Bids my fond heart its ardent zeal repress,
And whispers, " Woo and win the tender maid,
" Whose virtues shall thy social moments bless.