 | The poems, odes, songs, and other metrical effusions, of Samuel Woodworth |  |
169
FIRST LESSON OF LOVE.
In vain I breathed the tender sigh
At lovely Mary's feet;
My soul, which glisten'd in my eye,
No kindred ray could meet.
With cold indifference she replied—
“My heart you do not move;
“And I will never be a bride
“Till I have learn'd to love.”
At lovely Mary's feet;
My soul, which glisten'd in my eye,
No kindred ray could meet.
With cold indifference she replied—
“My heart you do not move;
“And I will never be a bride
“Till I have learn'd to love.”
“O then, (I cried) my pupil be,
“Thy breast no longer steel;
“Sure, I can teach, sweet girl, to thee,
“The lesson which I feel!”
“No, Selim—you have tried it long,
“And yet I don't improve;
“I'm dull—or you instruct me wrong—
“I have not learn'd to love.”
“Thy breast no longer steel;
“Sure, I can teach, sweet girl, to thee,
“The lesson which I feel!”
“No, Selim—you have tried it long,
“And yet I don't improve;
“I'm dull—or you instruct me wrong—
“I have not learn'd to love.”
I left her hopeless—but at eve
We met, when she exclaim'd—
“Now, Selim—now my heart receive,
“With love for you inflamed!”
Surprised, delighted, soon I guess'd
What thus the fair could move—
My hair had been by Huggins dress'd,
She saw—and learn'd to love.
We met, when she exclaim'd—
“Now, Selim—now my heart receive,
“With love for you inflamed!”
Surprised, delighted, soon I guess'd
What thus the fair could move—
My hair had been by Huggins dress'd,
She saw—and learn'd to love.
| The poems, odes, songs, and other metrical effusions, of Samuel Woodworth | |