Classic Poem

O Born to pity woes, yet, form'd to give ,
Shut from whose presence , 'twere a pain , to live !
Who make all converse tedious, but your own ;
And, that with-held, leave the forsaken none.
Urg'd by what motives, would you wish to shun
The sight , and voice , of him, whose soul you won?
On what false fears does this cold flight depend?
What fancy'd foe does prudence apprehend?

W HEN bodies only are to bodies dear,
The danger there consists in being near ;
And, when the fair , the soft contagion spy,
Discretion calls 'em — and 'tis wise, to fly .
But, where associate spirits catch the flame ,
Flight is a cruel, and a fruitless aim .
Souls have no sexes ; and if minds agree,
Parting is dying, to set fancy free.

N OR let mistaken virtue wrong the breast,
That opens kindly to so sweet a guest:
Not saints, in heav'n a purer warmth express,
Than reason feels, when touch'd by tenderness .
Relenting wisdom dignifies desire ,
And rais'd ideas fan the bright'ning fire;
'Till the white flame , ascending to the sky,
Spreads its low smoak , in envy's darken'd eye.

W HENCE grew society, so wish'd an art ,
If the mind 's elegance betrays the heart ?
Were it a crime in flashing souls, to rise,
And strike each other thro' the meeting eyes;
Those op'ning windows had not let in light,
Nor stream'd ideas out, to voice the sight.

W HY are you form'd so pow'rful , in your charms ,
If beauty ought to fly the wish, it warms?
Vainly did heav'n inspire that tuneful tongue ,
With notes more sweet, than ever seraph sung!
If, justly, all that harmony you hide,
Your musick useless, and its pow'r un-try'd.
Have wit and eloquence in vain, conspir'd,
And giv'n you brightness , but to shine retir'd?
Must you be loveliest , yet be never shown?
Than all be wiser, yet be heard, by none?
Oh! 'tis too delicate! — 'tis falsely nice,
To bar the heart against the mind's advice.

B UT , you will say, that honour's call, you hear;
That fame is tender — reputation , dear:
That, from the world's malignant blast you fly,
Fear the fool's tongue , and the discerner's eye .
The spleen of disappointed wishes dread ,
Or envy's whispers , by detraction spread?
Alas! what bounds can limit your retreat ?
Where will sought safety rest your flying feet?
Is there a corner , in the globe, so new ,
That malice will not find, as sure as you?
The very flight, that shuns, attracts the wrong ;
And ev'ry censure fear'd, you force along.
" There's cause , no doubt, for her retreat , they'll " say,
" A fearless innocence had dar'd to stay!
Scandal has, either way, an edge, to strike,
And wounds distinction every where alike :
Superior excellence is doom'd, to bear
The stings of sland'rous hate , and rash despair:
'Tis the due tax , your rated merit pays,
And ev'ry judging ear will call it praise .

T HINK — and be kind — convert this fruitless pain,
To a fix'd firmness , and a calm disdain .
Since cautious absence can no more be free,
From false reproach , than present smiles will be,
Diffuse those gifts , which heav'n design'd should bless,
Nor let their greatness make their pity less.
Indulging freedom , ev'ry fear disarm,
And, with a conscious scorn of slander, charm .
Bold, in your guarded strength , your heart unbind,
And, to be safe — suppose yourself all mind .

Y ET , needless that! since such respect you draw,
That ev'n your tenderness is arm'd with awe:
Permitted love , would silently admire,
And a soft rev'rence tremble, thro' desire .
The warmest wishes , when inspir'd by you ,
Strike, but as heav'nly inspirations do.
The op'ning heart makes room for joys refin'd,
And ev'ry gross idea shrinks behind.

Y OU need not then, the gentle sound reject,
Shou'd Love's fear'd name be giv'n to soft respect:
When ill-distinguish'd meanings are the same,
How poor the diff'rence , which they draw from name!
There are, in love , th' extremes of touch'd desire ,
The noblest brightness , or the coarsest fire!
In vulgar bosoms , vulgar wishes move;
Nature guides choice , and as men think , they love .
But, when a pow'r, like yours , impels the wound ,
Like the clear cause , the bright effect is found.
In the loose passion , men profane the name ,
Mistake the purpose , and pollute the flame :
In nobler bosoms, friendship's form it takes,
And sex alone, the lovely diff'rence makes.
Love's generous warmth does reason's pow'r display,
And fills desire , as light embodies day.

L OVE is, to life , what colour is, to form :
Plain drawings oft are just , but never warm .
Love , in a blaze of tints , his light'ning throws;
Then the form quickens , and the figure glows .