The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
 |
 |
|
LISETTA. |
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | The Shamrock |  |
LISETTA.
To H. H. Esq; Author of the Countess of Salisbury.
To thee, my Friend, who ne'er, with cold Disdain,
Did'st damp my Transports, or my Griefs reprove,
To thee I write: Indulge this plaintive Strain;
This plaintive Strain thy Breast, at least, may move.
Did'st damp my Transports, or my Griefs reprove,
To thee I write: Indulge this plaintive Strain;
This plaintive Strain thy Breast, at least, may move.
My Heart, elate with Spirits, once, was light;
With careless Ease, from Fair to Fair I flew;
The Day, in Joy, in Peace I spent the Night;
Nor dream'd of Love, which scarce by Name I knew.
With careless Ease, from Fair to Fair I flew;
The Day, in Joy, in Peace I spent the Night;
Nor dream'd of Love, which scarce by Name I knew.
The little Birds, that charm the vocal Wood,
Could boast no greater Liberty than I;
No Tears of mine encreas'd the chrystal Flood,
Nor did I to the Zephyrs lend a Sigh.
Could boast no greater Liberty than I;
No Tears of mine encreas'd the chrystal Flood,
Nor did I to the Zephyrs lend a Sigh.
128
When Lads, and Lasses, danc'd in sprightly Round,
I tripp'd it with the fairest I could find;
My Flute ne'er utter'd, then, a plaintive Sound,
But airy Sonnets sported on the Wind.
I tripp'd it with the fairest I could find;
My Flute ne'er utter'd, then, a plaintive Sound,
But airy Sonnets sported on the Wind.
Where, where is, now, my vaunted Freedom gone?
Why heaves my Breast? Why falls this Drop of Woe?
Too sure, Lisetta has my Peace undone;
Too sure, her Eyes the fatal Wounds bestow:
Why heaves my Breast? Why falls this Drop of Woe?
Too sure, Lisetta has my Peace undone;
Too sure, her Eyes the fatal Wounds bestow:
Those Eyes, where Innocence, and youthful Fire,
Parents of Chearfulness, their Throne have plac'd,
With Tenderness, exciting soft Desire,
And Sensibility, the Ground of Taste.
Parents of Chearfulness, their Throne have plac'd,
With Tenderness, exciting soft Desire,
And Sensibility, the Ground of Taste.
No dew-bent Rose-bud with her Lip can vie;
No Whiteness, match the Ivory of her Teeth;
The May-Morn Gales, in passing slily by,
Steal added Sweetness from her balmy Breath.
No Whiteness, match the Ivory of her Teeth;
The May-Morn Gales, in passing slily by,
Steal added Sweetness from her balmy Breath.
Behold her, blooming, lead the festive Ball;
How happy he, who holds her taper Hand!
The Graces, smiling, follow round the Hall;
And all the Loves, in mute Devotion stand.
How happy he, who holds her taper Hand!
The Graces, smiling, follow round the Hall;
And all the Loves, in mute Devotion stand.
Do lively Tunes the Movement quick denote?
Blithsome, and light, she bounds along the Floor;
Do graver Strains in trembling Æther float?
Her Ease, and Dignity, all Eyes allure.
Blithsome, and light, she bounds along the Floor;
Do graver Strains in trembling Æther float?
Her Ease, and Dignity, all Eyes allure.
Nor think, my Friend, all beauteous as she is,
Her Form, alone, inspires the amorous Flame;
Beauty, 'tis true, enhances every Bliss;
But mental Grace confirms the tender Claim.
Her Form, alone, inspires the amorous Flame;
Beauty, 'tis true, enhances every Bliss;
But mental Grace confirms the tender Claim.
129
And, sure, the mental Graces, which I prize,
Are in my fair Lisetta all combin'd;
Truth, Sense, and Sweetness, sparkling in her Eyes,
Shine, a faint Emblem of her active Mind.
Are in my fair Lisetta all combin'd;
Truth, Sense, and Sweetness, sparkling in her Eyes,
Shine, a faint Emblem of her active Mind.
Her Brow no Trace of Envy e'er betray'd;
To her the Breath of Calumny's unknown;
Her Breast, from Principle, by Virtue sway'd;
And no Desert escapes her, save, her own.
To her the Breath of Calumny's unknown;
Her Breast, from Principle, by Virtue sway'd;
And no Desert escapes her, save, her own.
Young, dimpling Gaiety illumes her Face;
No Blush, but Virgin Modesty, her Cheek:
Oh! may no hapless Passion blast her Peace;
No Sighs, like mine, a tortur'd Bosom speak!
No Blush, but Virgin Modesty, her Cheek:
Oh! may no hapless Passion blast her Peace;
No Sighs, like mine, a tortur'd Bosom speak!
Tortur'd for her alone; but, cruel Fate!
To others, kind, and affable, and free,
I, only, pine, obnoxious to her Hate;
Each Frown, each chilling Glance, is bent at me.
To others, kind, and affable, and free,
I, only, pine, obnoxious to her Hate;
Each Frown, each chilling Glance, is bent at me.
She disapproves of all I say, or do;
If grave, I'm sullen; trifling, if I'm gay;
No kind Farewell attends me, when I go;
No little Favour chears me, if I stay;
If grave, I'm sullen; trifling, if I'm gay;
No kind Farewell attends me, when I go;
No little Favour chears me, if I stay;
At Eve, if, watchful, I her Steps attend,
She scorns upon my proffer'd Arm to lean;
Yet none, more faithful, would Assistance lend,
More firmly prop, or pick her Steps more clean.
She scorns upon my proffer'd Arm to lean;
Yet none, more faithful, would Assistance lend,
More firmly prop, or pick her Steps more clean.
But, let me not accuse the lovely Maid;
I never told her of my ardent Flame;
Though oft, I think, my speaking Eyes have said,
What my Respect forbids my Tongue to name.
I never told her of my ardent Flame;
Though oft, I think, my speaking Eyes have said,
What my Respect forbids my Tongue to name.
130
Do you, then, best of Friends, my Suit prefer;
And think that you your own Thalia woo;
Friendship, and Love, combin'd, will gain her Ear;
And Words, like these, express a Passion true:—
And think that you your own Thalia woo;
Friendship, and Love, combin'd, will gain her Ear;
And Words, like these, express a Passion true:—
Oh thou, my only, ever, best belov'd!
For whom I live, for whom I'd freely die,
With soft Compassion let thy Breast be mov'd!
Let tender Pity fill thy melting Eye.
For whom I live, for whom I'd freely die,
With soft Compassion let thy Breast be mov'd!
Let tender Pity fill thy melting Eye.
That I adore with Ardour, Zeal, and Truth,
Each Word and Action, fairly judg'd, will tell;
I've known thee, Fairest, from thy earliest Youth;
And, faithful even to Death, with thee would dwell.
Each Word and Action, fairly judg'd, will tell;
I've known thee, Fairest, from thy earliest Youth;
And, faithful even to Death, with thee would dwell.
Such Symptoms as Sincerity attend,
Of such, I feel my anxious Bosom full;
In vain, by Converse with a chearful Friend,
In vain, by reading, I my Griefs would lull.
Of such, I feel my anxious Bosom full;
In vain, by Converse with a chearful Friend,
In vain, by reading, I my Griefs would lull.
When round my Room I take my Midnight Walk,
On every Pannel thy lov'd Form I see;
I gaze! and to thy fancy'd Shadow talk!
Heave a sad Sigh, and melt in Tears, for thee.
On every Pannel thy lov'd Form I see;
I gaze! and to thy fancy'd Shadow talk!
Heave a sad Sigh, and melt in Tears, for thee.
My Humour, or I'm flatter'd, once, could please,
And shake the social Board with roaring Mirth;
Dejected, now, I pass my tedious Days,
And almost curse the Hour that gave me Birth.
And shake the social Board with roaring Mirth;
Dejected, now, I pass my tedious Days,
And almost curse the Hour that gave me Birth.
For Lovers, far more wealthy, far more fair,
Perfections, such as thine, may justly hope;
But, where's the Man whose Love is so sincere,
Whose Warmth, and Tenderness, with mine can cope?
Perfections, such as thine, may justly hope;
But, where's the Man whose Love is so sincere,
Whose Warmth, and Tenderness, with mine can cope?
131
Were Wealth, and Honours, both at my Command,
To share with thee would be my greatest Pride;
Heavens! with what Eagerness I'd seize thy Hand!
Good Heavens! how glory in my charming Bride!
To share with thee would be my greatest Pride;
Heavens! with what Eagerness I'd seize thy Hand!
Good Heavens! how glory in my charming Bride!
The Sweets of Friendship should our Days employ;
And mutual Transports crown th'enraptur'd Night
Oh! my Lisetta! Oh! my Bosom's Joy!
My busy Fancy sickens with Delight!
And mutual Transports crown th'enraptur'd Night
Oh! my Lisetta! Oh! my Bosom's Joy!
My busy Fancy sickens with Delight!
Justice, at least, you owe to Love like mine:
Then, tell me, may I e'er expect to please?
Let not my Youth, in fruitless Wishes pine;
To know the worst, is some Degree of Ease.
Then, tell me, may I e'er expect to please?
Let not my Youth, in fruitless Wishes pine;
To know the worst, is some Degree of Ease.
These Thoughts, thus rudely flowing from a Heart
Which feels much more than Language can express,
These, to my Love, with friendly Zeal, impart;
So may Thalia all your Wishes bless.
Which feels much more than Language can express,
These, to my Love, with friendly Zeal, impart;
So may Thalia all your Wishes bless.
| The Shamrock | |