Classic Poem

Fair Niobe, old times survey'd,
In Phrygian hills, a marble maid.
Chang'd Pandion! to the swallow's hue,
On swallow's wings thy daughter flew.
But I a looking-glass would be,
That thou might'st see thyself in me.
No; I would be a morning gown,
That so my dear might me put on.
But I a silver stream would flow,
To wash thy skin, as pure as snow,
I would myself in ointment pour,
To bathe thee with the fragrant show'r.
But I would be thy tucker made,
Thy lovely swelling bosom's shade.
I would, a diamond necklace, deck
The comely rising of thy neck.
I would, thy slender feet inclose,
To tread on me transform'd to shoes.