Classic Poem

ON HEARING HER SING A SONG OF HER OWN COMPOSITION .

I.

So bright thine eyes! so kind thine heart!
So sweet thy voice, such grace and ease!
In every breast is left a dart; —
How could'st thou only hope to please?

II.

The heedless youth, who durst to gaze,
Is led thine easy prey along: —
And those, who can resist thy face,
Feel the keen arrows of thy song.

III.

But is there to thy face or voice
Who can his warmer love refuse?
He has but left the poets choice, —
To fall the victim of thy muse.