University of Virginia Library

FOR CYNTHIA.

Ah! tell me no more, my dear girl, with a sigh,
That a coldness will creep o'er my heart;
That a sullen indiff'rence will dwell on my eye,
When thy beauty begins to depart.
Shall thy graces, O Cynthia, that gladden my day,
And brighten the gloom of the night,
Till life be extinguish'd, from memory stray,
Which it ought to review with delight?
Upbraiding, shall gratitude say with a tear,
‘That no longer I think of those charms
Which gave to my bosom such rapture sincere,
And faded at length in my arms?’
Why yes! it may happen, thou damsel divine:—
To be honest—I freely declare,
That e'en now to thy converse so much I incline,
I've already forgot thou art fair.