The Works of Soame Jenyns ... In Four Volumes. Including Several Pieces Never Before Published. To Which are Prefixed, Short Sketches of the History of the Author's Family, and also of his Life; By Charles Nalson Cole |
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To a NOSEGAY in Pancharilla's Breast. |
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 | The Works of Soame Jenyns |  |
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To a NOSEGAY in Pancharilla's Breast.
WRITTEN IN 1729.
Must you alone then, happy flow'rs,
Ye short-liv'd sons of vernal show'rs,
Must you alone be still thus blest,
And dwell in Pancharilla's breast?
Oh would the Gods but hear my pray'r,
To change my form and place me there!
I should not sure so quickly die,
I shou'd not so unactive lie;
But ever wand'ring to and fro,
From this to that fair ball of snow,
Enjoy ten thousand thousand blisses
And print on each ten thousand kisses.
Ye short-liv'd sons of vernal show'rs,
Must you alone be still thus blest,
And dwell in Pancharilla's breast?
Oh would the Gods but hear my pray'r,
To change my form and place me there!
I should not sure so quickly die,
I shou'd not so unactive lie;
But ever wand'ring to and fro,
From this to that fair ball of snow,
Enjoy ten thousand thousand blisses
And print on each ten thousand kisses.
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Nor would I thus the task give o'er;
Curious new secrets to explore,
I'd never rest till I had found
Which globe was softest, which most round—
Which was most yielding, smooth, and white,
Or the left bosom or the right;
Which was the warmest, easiest bed,
And which was tip'd with purest red.
Curious new secrets to explore,
I'd never rest till I had found
Which globe was softest, which most round—
Which was most yielding, smooth, and white,
Or the left bosom or the right;
Which was the warmest, easiest bed,
And which was tip'd with purest red.
Nor cou'd I leave the beauteous scene,
Till I had trac'd the path between,
That milky way so smooth and even,
That promises to lead to heav'n:
Lower and lower I'd descend,
To find where it at last wou'd end;
Till fully blest I'd wand'ring rove
O'er all the fragrant Cyprian grove.
Till I had trac'd the path between,
That milky way so smooth and even,
That promises to lead to heav'n:
Lower and lower I'd descend,
To find where it at last wou'd end;
Till fully blest I'd wand'ring rove
O'er all the fragrant Cyprian grove.
But ah! those wishes all are vain,
The fair one triumphs in my pain;
To flow'rs that know not to be blest,
The nymph unveils her snowy breast;
While to her slave's desiring eyes,
The heav'nly prospect she denies:
Too cruel fate, too cruel Fair,
To place a senseless nosegay there,
And yet refuse my lips the bliss
To taste one dear transporting kiss.
The fair one triumphs in my pain;
To flow'rs that know not to be blest,
The nymph unveils her snowy breast;
While to her slave's desiring eyes,
The heav'nly prospect she denies:
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To place a senseless nosegay there,
And yet refuse my lips the bliss
To taste one dear transporting kiss.
| The Works of Soame Jenyns | |