 | The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq |  |
111
A SONG.
THE LASS OF EDEN GROVE.
In Eden grove there dwells a maid,
Adorned by every grace;
The pearls, that deck the dewy shade,
Fairer confess her face.
Adorned by every grace;
The pearls, that deck the dewy shade,
Fairer confess her face.
The sun has spots, the rose has thorns,
And poisons mix with love;
But every spotless charm adorns
The Lass of Eden grove.
And poisons mix with love;
But every spotless charm adorns
The Lass of Eden grove.
The sparkling, soft, cerulean eye;
Bright Virtue's starry zone;
The smile of Spring's Favonian sky;
These charms are all her own.
Bright Virtue's starry zone;
The smile of Spring's Favonian sky;
These charms are all her own.
The sun has spots, &c.
The frozen veins of age have felt
New youth in Eden grove;
Her smiles, like spring, the frost can melt,
And warm the heart with love.
New youth in Eden grove;
Her smiles, like spring, the frost can melt,
And warm the heart with love.
The sun has spots, &c.
The monarch quits his dazzling throne,
And seeks her rural lot,
To find in her a richer crown;
A palace in a cot!
And seeks her rural lot,
To find in her a richer crown;
A palace in a cot!
The sun has spots, &c.
112
While toy-enamoured eyes admire
The gaudy bubble, Fame;
Her virtues brighter joys inspire,
And softer honours claim.
The gaudy bubble, Fame;
Her virtues brighter joys inspire,
And softer honours claim.
The sun has spots, &c.
Her charms the noblest laurel prove,
The hero's meed outshine;
And round the brow of faithful love,
Perennial garlands twine.
The hero's meed outshine;
And round the brow of faithful love,
Perennial garlands twine.
The sun has spots, &c.
When Cupid all his darts has hurled,
From her he draws supplies,
And Hymen's flambeau lights the world
From her resplendent eyes.
From her he draws supplies,
And Hymen's flambeau lights the world
From her resplendent eyes.
The sun has spots, &c.
To her, sweet nymph, the captive soul,
Pours forth its votive lay;
'Tis bliss to own her soft control;
'Tis rapture, to obey.
Pours forth its votive lay;
'Tis bliss to own her soft control;
'Tis rapture, to obey.
The sun has spots, the rose has thorns,
And poisons mix with love;
But every spotless charm adorns
The Lass of Eden grove.
And poisons mix with love;
But every spotless charm adorns
The Lass of Eden grove.
| The works, in verse and prose, of the late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq | |