Poems By Mr. Polwhele. In three volumes |
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TO EMILIA. |
Poems | ||
262
TO EMILIA.
Forbear, my charming girl, forbear to grieve,Nor give the softness of thy soul to tears!
No—rather triumph that his wrongs relieve
Thy breast from wavering doubts and anxious fears.
Tho' he whose vows deceiv'd thy gentle heart
Bade thee from perjur'd lips the last adieu;
Ere long, a kindred bosom shall impart
Its soothing sighs to sweet Emilia true!
For, trust the Muse, tho' the cold world may frown
On those who cherish love's delicious sires;
Yet are there some, who still unblushing own
The nameless joys that sentiment inspires.
And, where pure native sense and feeling join,
That heart must beat in unison with thine.
Poems | ||