 | The poems, odes, songs, and other metrical effusions, of Samuel Woodworth |  |
170
SECOND LESSON OF LOVE.
OR THE CHARM IRRESISTIBLE.
“No, friendship, dear Julia, is all I can proffer,
“My love is another's, who loves me in turn;
“Accept my esteem—it is all I can offer,
“The flame of affection for Mary must burn.
“My love is another's, who loves me in turn;
“Accept my esteem—it is all I can offer,
“The flame of affection for Mary must burn.
“Then cease, lovely girl, to exhibit those graces,
“Nor tempt me from constancy, honour and truth;
“For I never will yield to love's hallowed embraces,
“Till the arms of my Mary receive her fond youth.
“Nor tempt me from constancy, honour and truth;
“For I never will yield to love's hallowed embraces,
“Till the arms of my Mary receive her fond youth.
“I pity the sorrow that 'waits thee at parting,
“And which, for a season, may rob thee of rest;
“But time will soon sooth the sad heart I leave smarting,
“And the sweet dove of peace shall revisit her nest.
“And which, for a season, may rob thee of rest;
“But time will soon sooth the sad heart I leave smarting,
“And the sweet dove of peace shall revisit her nest.
“You tell me my glances have nourish'd your passion,
“And gilded with hope the sweet prospect of bliss;
“Dear artless echantress! untutor'd by fashion!
“Your beauty demanded a homage like this.
“And gilded with hope the sweet prospect of bliss;
“Dear artless echantress! untutor'd by fashion!
“Your beauty demanded a homage like this.
“Had I known you ere this constant heart was my Mary's
“It might have been Julia's, and both have been blest;
“But now 'tis too late, for if ever it varies,
“May my image for ever be banish'd her breast.”
“It might have been Julia's, and both have been blest;
“But now 'tis too late, for if ever it varies,
“May my image for ever be banish'd her breast.”
171
'Twas thus to fair Julia I modestly pleaded,
Nor dared meet the glance of her love-beaming eye;
Perplex'd by the subject, my tongue was impeded,
And I sat sunk in silence, till roused by her sigh.
Nor dared meet the glance of her love-beaming eye;
Perplex'd by the subject, my tongue was impeded,
And I sat sunk in silence, till roused by her sigh.
Then our eyes met by instinct—but, ah! the transgression
My Mary for ever is doom'd to deplore!
For, Oh! such a sweet and bewitching expression,
Ne'er beam'd from the face of a mortal before.
My Mary for ever is doom'd to deplore!
For, Oh! such a sweet and bewitching expression,
Ne'er beam'd from the face of a mortal before.
I flew to her arms, with this fond exclamation,
“Dear Julia! I'm thine! and we never will part!
“But explain, my sweet angel! this new fascination,
“Say, whence this new charm that has vanquish'd my heart?”
“Dear Julia! I'm thine! and we never will part!
“But explain, my sweet angel! this new fascination,
“Say, whence this new charm that has vanquish'd my heart?”
She replied, with a smile that enraptured my bosom,
“The charms which you now irresistible own,
“Are the gift of Desborus, whose magic renews 'em,
“His art can create and preserve them alone.”
“The charms which you now irresistible own,
“Are the gift of Desborus, whose magic renews 'em,
“His art can create and preserve them alone.”
Protect, then, this artist, ye beaux, 'tis your duty;
Ye belles, let Desborus your patronage prove;
'Tis his to new polish the armour of beauty,
The ringlets he weaves are the meshes of love.
Ye belles, let Desborus your patronage prove;
'Tis his to new polish the armour of beauty,
The ringlets he weaves are the meshes of love.
| The poems, odes, songs, and other metrical effusions, of Samuel Woodworth | |