 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
THE WATERMELON.
'Twas noon, and the reapers reposed on the bank
Where our rural repast had been spread,
Beside us meandered the rill where we drank,
And the green willows waved overhead.
Lucinda, the queen of our rustical treat,
With smiles, like the season, auspicious,
Had rendered the scene and the banquet more sweet,
But, oh! the dessert was delicious!
Where our rural repast had been spread,
Beside us meandered the rill where we drank,
And the green willows waved overhead.
Lucinda, the queen of our rustical treat,
With smiles, like the season, auspicious,
Had rendered the scene and the banquet more sweet,
But, oh! the dessert was delicious!
A melon, the richest that loaded the vine,
The kind-hearted damsel had brought,
Its crimson core teemed with the sweetest of wine,
“How much like her kisses!” I thought.
And I said, as its nectarous juices I quaffed
“How vain are the joys of the vicious!
No tropical fruit ever furnished a draught
So innocent, pure, and delicious.
The kind-hearted damsel had brought,
Its crimson core teemed with the sweetest of wine,
“How much like her kisses!” I thought.
And I said, as its nectarous juices I quaffed
“How vain are the joys of the vicious!
No tropical fruit ever furnished a draught
So innocent, pure, and delicious.
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In the seeds which embellished this red juicy core
An emblem of life we may view,
For human enjoyments are thus sprinkled over
With specks of an ebony hue.
But if we are wise to discard from the mind
Every thought and affection that 's vicious,
Like the seed-speckled core of the melon, we'll find
Each innocent pleasure delicious.”
An emblem of life we may view,
For human enjoyments are thus sprinkled over
With specks of an ebony hue.
But if we are wise to discard from the mind
Every thought and affection that 's vicious,
Like the seed-speckled core of the melon, we'll find
Each innocent pleasure delicious.”
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |