Classic Poem

When Laura 's tuneful Airs my Soul surprize,
And fan the Flame created by her Eyes;
Forgetful of myself, I rashly gaze
On the dear Magic of her fatal Face;
Each soft'ning Sound my melting Soul disarms,
And I'm an easy Conquest to her Charms.

T HUS the bold Warriour, with undaunted Eye,
Sees scatter'd Troops and Armies round him die;
Inspir'd with Music's animating Sounds,
In Death he triumphs, and he smiles at Wounds,
Undaunted views with Pride the deadly Dart;
Nor fears it, till he feels it in his Heart.