Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses A Collection of Poems. In Three Volumes. By Mr John Hopkins |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses |  |
To Amasia, still promising to Sing, but never performing.
1
Amasia wrongs me of my Song,Yet is not much to blame,
She knows my fate hangs on her Tongue,
She knows her breath would spread my flame.
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2
With sounds as pleasing as the Spheres,The lovely Fair denies,
To Charm my Soul into my Ears,
And sing the triumphs of her Eyes.
3
Mean tho' she thinks the prize she won,Her Slave not worthy of that Grace,
Yet knows by what he was undone,
An Angel's Voice, an Angel's Face.
4
Your every Breath does Musick bear,A Song from you might kill;
I only now desire to hear
You sweetly thus deny me still.
| Amasia, or, The Works of the Muses | |