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SONG XXXVII. THE SEASON OF LOVE.
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203

SONG XXXVII. THE SEASON OF LOVE.

Eliza, tho' thy charms appear
Like May when in her gayest dress;
Tho' sweet thy voice to my rapt ear,
And sweet the bloom that decks thy face;
That bloom, alas! must soon decay,
And Age thy charms will soon remove;
Then let us wisely, while we may,
Think youth's the season meant for love.
Behold, my fair, the smiles of Spring;
See how the fragrant hawthorn blows;
Hark! how the woods with echoes ring,
And view thine emblem in the rose:
But mark the change, when Winter drear
Spreads a white mantle o'er the grove;
Think, ere thou view'st the waning year,
That youth's the season meant for love.

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Come then, Eliza, sweetest maid
That e'er inspir'd fond lover's song,
I'll lead thee to each fav'rite shade,
Where murm'ring Eden steals along.
In spite of cruel Fortune's frown,
Let us the joys of life improve;
Nor blush, my fair, with me to own,
That youth's the season meant for love.