Poems By the Rev. James Hurdis ... In Three Volumes |
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| XIV. | XIV. TO A LADY,
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XIV. TO A LADY,
WHO DREW THE PINS FROM HER BONNET IN A THUNDER-STORM.
Cease, Eliza, thy locks to despoil,
Nor remove the bright steel from thy hair;
For fruitless and fond is the toil,
Since nature has made thee so fair.
Nor remove the bright steel from thy hair;
For fruitless and fond is the toil,
Since nature has made thee so fair.
While the rose on thy cheek shall remain,
And thine eye so bewitchingly shine,
Thy endeavour must still be in vain,
For attraction will always be thine.
And thine eye so bewitchingly shine,
Thy endeavour must still be in vain,
For attraction will always be thine.
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