 | [Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) |  |
To A Lady
WHO DECLARED THAT THE SUN PREVENTED HER FROM SLEEPING
Why blame old Sol, who, all on fire,
Prints on your lips the burning kiss;
Why should he not your charms admire,
And dip his beam each morn in bliss?
Prints on your lips the burning kiss;
Why should he not your charms admire,
And dip his beam each morn in bliss?
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Were't mine to guide o'er paths of light
The beam-haired coursers of the sky,
I'd stay their course the livelong night
To gaze upon thy sleeping eye.
The beam-haired coursers of the sky,
I'd stay their course the livelong night
To gaze upon thy sleeping eye.
Then let the dotard fondly spring,
Each rising day, to snatch the prize;
'Twill add new vigor to his wing,
And speed his journey through the skies.
Each rising day, to snatch the prize;
'Twill add new vigor to his wing,
And speed his journey through the skies.
| [Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) | |