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She stood breast high amid the corn,
Round her eyes her tresses fell,
And her hat, with shady brim,
Sure, I said, Heav'n did not mean,
ON A GIRDLE.
That which her slender waste confin'd,
It was my heav'ns extreamest spheare,
A narrow compass, and yet there
O Innocence! white-bosom'd purity!
is peace; Whose presence fills all places with a light; Whose loss makes dark the sun, and poisons
Ask me why I send you here
If love be holy, if that mystery Of co-united hearts be sacrament; If the unbounded Goodness have infus'd A sacred ardour of a mutual love Into our species; if those amorous joys, Those sweets of life, those comforts even in
death, Spring from a cause above our reason's
reach; If that clear flame deduce its heat from
Heaven, 'Tis, like its cause, eternal; always one, As is th' instiller of divinest love, Unchang’d by time, immortal, maugre death.
Waxe, oh, wake!-the morning star
The light breeze wafts perfume on high, Less sweet alone than thy sweet sighThe flower with fresher tints is glowing, The fount with clearer crystal flowing. Oh come! oh come! Hours like this a charm impart That wins the eye but not the heart, While Love is still away!
Wake, oh, wake!-through ev'ry grove Is heard the matin lay of love; - And shall a dearer love be vain To bid thee burst dull slumber's chain, And spurn at slow delay? Though morning glow with tints divine I'd change her brightest blush for thine ! And deem thine eye from sleep awaking, Outshone the sun through darkness breaking. Oh come! oh come! Hours like this are quickly filed, But thy fond smile a joy can shed Which melts not thus away!