 | The Works of William Mason |  |
199
SONG.
I
When first I dar'd by soft surpriseTo breathe my love in Flavia's ear,
I saw the mixt sensations rise
Of trembling joy and pleasing fear;
Her cheek forgot its rosy hue,
For what has Art with Love to do?
II
But soon the crimson glow return'dEre half my passion was exprest,
The eye that clos'd, the cheek that burn'd,
The quiv'ring lip, the panting breast
Shew'd that she wish'd or thought me true,
For what has Art with Love to do?
III
Ah! speak, I cry'd, thy soft assent:She strove to speak, she could but sigh;
A glance, more heav'nly eloquent,
Left language nothing to supply.
She prest my hand with fervour new;
For what has Art with Love to do?
200
IV
Ye practis'd nymphs, who form your charmsBy Fashion's rules, enjoy your skill;
Torment your swains with false alarms,
And, ere you cure, pretend to kill:
Still, still your sex's wiles pursue,
Such tricks she leaves to Art and You.
V
Secure of native powers to please,My Flavia scorns all mean pretence;
Her form is elegance and ease,
Her soul is truth and innocence;
And these, O heartfelt extasy!
She gives to Honour, Love, and Me.
July 11, 1765.
| The Works of William Mason | |