 | The Harp of Erin |  |
238
To fix the sight, to charm the heart,
To bid the distant scene return,
The sympathetic bosom burn?
While to thy canvas looks th' enamour'd youth,
Sadly he thinks upon her charming face,
Which wore the smile of innocence and truth,
Which won with love's inimitable grace;
Thy hand her fleeting beauties drew,
The shadow flourish'd, though the substance flew!
| The Harp of Erin | |