University of Virginia Library


257

SONG.

[O Nymph! of Fortune's smiles, beware]

O Nymph! of Fortune's smiles, beware,
Nor heed the Syren's flatt'ring tongue;
She lures thee to the haunts of Care,
Where Sorrow pours a ceaseless song.
Ah! what are all her piles of gold?
Can those the hosts of Care control?
The splendor which thine eyes behold,
Is not the sunshine of the soul.
To Love alone thy homage pay,
The queen of ev'ry true delight:
Her smiles with joy shall gild thy day,
And bless the visions of the night.