Classic Poem

Ask what prevailing, pleasing power
Allures the sportive, wandering bee
To roam untired, from flower to flower,
He'll tell you, 't is variety.

Look Nature round, her features trace,
Her seasons, all her changes see;
And own, upon Creation's face,
The greatest charm's variety.

For me, ye gracious powers above!
Still let me roam, unfixt and free;
In all things,—but the nymph I love,
I'll change, and taste variety.
But, Patty, not a world of charms
Could e'er estrange my heart from thee;—
No, let me ever seek those arms,
There still I 'll find variety.