Classic Poem

The small but artless tribute of a lay
Permit a youthful bard unknown to pay;
The lay, to female worth and beauty due,
He gives, because he can't with-hold, to you.
Your pow'r already gazing eyes declare,
Already, eager looks pronounce you fair:
Yet be not vain of these: How foolish they,
Who're vain of charms, that quickly must decay!
Would you for ever bind the chains of love?
Your mind with knowledge and with worth improve;
Anticipate what must befal at last,
And be what you would be, when beauty's past,
O may not youth now unimprov'd be spent,
Nor of your early choice your age repent,
The highest bliss of woman may you know,
That beauty join'd with virtue can bestow!
These lines receive from one, who, tho' unknown,
Your welfare prizes dearly as his own,
From one, who asks what all, who know you, claim,
And he would fain deserve, your friendship's name:
Fortune suppresses what he else might feel,
Nor more allows him than to wish your weal:
Trust me,—no higher pleasure I could share,
Than know you're good, and happy, as you're fair.