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To bless my longing sight;
And chaste subdued delight.
To find thy hermit cell ;
The modest virtues dwell.
And clear undaunted eye;
A visit to the sky.
That rarely ebb or flow;
To meet the offer'd blow.
With settled smiles to meet :
And kiss'd thy sainted feet.
To tell thy tender tale ?
And lily of the vale.
say what soft propitious hour
And court thy gentle sway?
And shed thy milder day:
And every storm is laid ;
Hail! Courtesy, thou gracious power,
Of Heaven-born Chastity the child ;
A kin to all that's soft and mild !
She bows and smiles, devoid of heart ;
The practis'd eye perceives her art;
Meanwhile that art thy real worth proclaims, Since to partake thy honours thus, she aims. Let polish'd Falsehood dazzle youth ;
Let Flatt'ry speak the style of courts :
Far from dark Treachery's resorts.
From generous motives bent to please,
Thy manners still are stamp'd with ease,
For ever to oblige is thine.
To charm the soul, but few incline.
'Twas when the slow declining ray
Had ting'd the cloud with evening gold, No warbler pour’d the melting lay,
No sound disturb'd the sleeping fold. When, by a murmuring rill reclin'd,
Sat, wrapt in thought, a wand'ring swain ; Calm peace compos'd his musing mind,
And thus he rais'd the flowing strain.
Hail Innocence! celestial maid !
What joys thy blushing charms reveal! Sweet as the arbour's cooling shade,
And milder than the vernal gale. • On thee attends a radiant choir,
Soft smiling Peace, and downy Rest, With Love, that prompts the warbling lyre,
And Hope, that soothes the throbbing breast. • Oh! sent from Heaven to haunt the
grove, Where squinting Envy ne'er can come ! Nor pines the cheek with luckless love,
Nor anguish chills the living bloom. . But spotless Beauty, rob’d in white,
Sits on yon moss-grown hill reclin’d;
And pure as Delia's gentle mind.
May still my ruder thoughts control,
Thy voice to soothe the melting soul. • Far in the shady, sweet retreat,
Let Thought beguile the ling'ring hour;
And twining olives form the bower.
And oft sit list’ning in the dale,
Tells to the grove his plaintive tale.
Soft as in Delia's snowy breast,
Let each consenting passion move, Let angels watch its silent rest,
And all its blissful dreams be love!
Youth, ah stay, prolong delight,
In vernal siniles and Summer's cheek?
Graver years come sailing by;
Or flatter thrones, the nobler choice!
now to Hate.
Or, where the unsunnd treasures sleep,