University of Virginia Library

Half an hour suffice
To feast thy longing lips and eyes!
Suffice to feast thy eager ear,
With all my love would whisper there!
Suffice thy longing arms to fill,
And free thy heart from fearful chill!
Not half an Hour, not half an Age,
My sateless Soul would half asswage:
Half satisfy my craving arms—
Half serve to worship half thy charms!
My ear would still impatient long
To hear again, thy gladdening song,
To hear again thy plighted will,
And glowing passion, growing still—
At every half-hour's famish'd end,
My lips, with thine, would long to blend,
Again to taste the balmy bliss,
Of never-satisfying kiss!

My first half-century, now, gone by,
Still, still I view, with raptur'd eye,
Thy simple garb—Thy tresses sleek—
Thy tintless brow—thy eye, so meek—
Thy cheeks—thy lips, so bright, and clear,
That Love might feast for ever there!
There heavenly Venus keeps her court—
There still the youthful Graces sport—
And when love claims accustom'd rites,
Thy modest manner adds delights.
Thy thrilling arms, and thrifty hands,
So form'd for skill, and lovers' bands,
With snowy fingers' waxen shine,
So apt, so willing, soft and fine;
All ready to atchieve the tasks
That fondness hints, or duty asks.
And then, thy active, well-form'd feet,
So shy, yet shapely, nice, and neat;
Tho' never taught to move by rule,
Far better skill'd in Nature's school;
Whose motions give still higher grace
To every charm of form and face!
Could e'er my amorous ardour tire,
Thy neck would wake a new desire;
So lightly pois'd on polish'd breast,
In concert sweet with all the rest—
To tell how fragrant, fair, and round,
And small, and smooth, would faith confound;
Would rouze Man's love, and Woman's spleen,
And make each King despise his Queen.
Thy breast, like Etna's veil'd in snows,
With milk-warm kindness ever flows;
And while fond love dissolves thy frame,
Pure friendship feeds the heavenly flame.
There, unconsum'd, my image dwells,
With fervour more than fable tells—
There let it dwell—still think it fair—
While thine, with me, the like shall share;
Still view thee virtuous, fair and young,
Nor let thy fondness feel a wrong.
May each, like faithful mirror, shine,
Reflecting, mutual, mine and thine;
Each heart content with plighted lot,
Till Death unties the sacred knot—
But while, in each entender'd Heart,
Our Saviour fills the central part,
Our happy portraits smiling by,
Admit no mortal rivals nigh;
Yet may our offspring circled round,
Like brilliant miniatures be found,
With every grace and Virtue deck'd,
That Heav'n may please, or Earth respect:
While pleas'd, within, their proper place,
Relations find, their ample space
Leaves room above, and room below,
To feast a friend, or feed a foe;
Resembling that almighty mind,
Whose bounty blesses all Mankind:
Still holding active patterns forth
Of christian love, and moral worth—
With Vice subdu'd, and Virtue high,
Tho' fond to live, not loth to die;
Yet, dying soon, or living late,
The World may wish to imitate;
Till train'd, alike, by Faith and Love,
We all embrace in bliss above!