Classic Poem

Go, dull insensate, go and rest
Where no rude hand has vilely press'd;
Go tend, since Mira wills it so,
The charms whose pow'r you ne'er can know:
Be thou the jailor of those hills,
Which ev'ry balmy sweet distils.
Go, envied bauble, be caress'd
On Mira's fair angelic breast;
Go, guard the alabaster rock,
Let no rude hands the folds unlock;
Keep close from ev'ry prying eye
The twins emotion, low or high;
From ev'ry bleak and chilling gust,
Secure from harm thy sacred trust;
Nor e'en let wanton zephyrs blow,
On living hills of mountain snow;
But most I charge you (if you can)
Protect them from the tyrant man.
But, ah! the caution cannot bind,
You ne'er can bar the virgin's mind;
That lock is form'd by Heav'n's decree,
Never to ope to — earthly key;
Too great to bear a vile controul,
It beats in union with the soul;
Try then if e'er thou hadst the art,
To ope the tender Mira's heart;
Yet use not force — but gently try
To urge the fair one to comply;
For know, 'tis Mira's self must give
The doom that bids me die — or live.
Then haste reveal Love's gentle wishes,
And give my fair a thousand kisses;
And, ah! as sighs will sometimes steal,
And speak what love wou'd fain conceal,
Inspect her eyes — if they disclose
From whence the dear intruders rose,
But, trifler, hence — thou canst not see,
Nor hear, if chance she sighs for me.
Oh! could fond anticipation
Form a pleasing transmigration,
Thy shape how instant I'd possess,
And taste those joys you can't express;
Then would I, by attentive care,
Deserve the love that plac'd me where — —
On earth — 'tis paradise to rest,
Entranc'd on Mira's snowy breast.