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 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
WITH A PRESENT OF SOME PENS SENT TO EMMA.
I
Go, ingenious artist, to herAll ambitious to be prest;
Dear disclosures of sensation;
Agents of the gentle breast.
II
Whiter than your whitest feather,Is the hand which you'll embrace;
Yet more white the fair affection,
Whose emotions you shall trace.
248
III
Go, and take a charge upon you,Passing tender, passing dear;
Oh, the trust you bear is wond'rous!
Gentle agents, be sincere.
IV
Every sacred secret marking,Gods! how precious ye will prove!
Softest sympathies imparting,
Are ye not the plumes of Love?
V
When first floating on the river,Lovely was your limpid way;
Lovely was your silver surface,
Lovely was your wat'ry play:
VI
But for pastime still more lovely,Your sweet feathers now I send;
What so lovely, prithee tell me,
As the service of a friend.
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VII
Faithful to the fair deposits,Your least stroke shall reach my heart;
In its elegant recesses
Shall be fix'd, what you impart.
VIII
Then dear instruments, I charge ye,Often tempt my Emma's eyes;
Bid her press your downy feathers,
Bid her speed the soft replies.
IX
Not the plumes which line her pillowHalf so delicate shall prove;
When all kind her pulses tremble,
As your downy plumes of love.
X
Ye shall note her joy and anguish,Gentle agents, be sincere!
Send me half each drop of sorrow;
Rob me not of half each tear.
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XI
Beauteous as the dews of morning,When they bathe the lovely flow'r,
Are the lucid drops of Feeling,
When from Fondness falls the show'r.
XII
Mark, I claim my just division;Mark, I promise just return;
Some of your white-wing'd associates
Must inform her how I mourn.
XIII
When long leagues our persons sever,Ye our wishes shall convey;
Ye shall tell the pangs of parting,
Ye shall hail the meeting day.
XIV
Save me, pow'rs! that strike the pulses,When invades the quick surprize;
Yonder comes the gentle Emma,
Hither she directs her eyes.
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XV
How the feather I am usingTrembles to the trembling heart!
Agents, here behold a pattern!
See a sample of your art.
XVI
Thus to me were Emma writing,(And her thoughts like Henry's kind)
Sympathy would shake each feather,
All expressive of the mind.
XVII
Go then, take this charge upon you,Passing tender, passing dear;
Oh, the charge you bear is wond'rous!
Gentle agents, be sincere.
| Miscellanies (1785) | |