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Driginal Poetry

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Celia, I read thy melting eye,
Thy check’d, yet stealing sighs I hear;
See from thy cheek the roses fly,
Or doubly glow, when Damon's near.

Ah, not from that seducing glance
Tov rashly drink the nectar'd bane !
Avoid him in the graceful dance,
Nor listen to his warbled strain !

It helps not, it avails not there,
Thy beauty's rising power to charm;
That his pleas'd senses own thee fair
Is yet thy too-triumphant harm.

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Ne'er to the sacred marriage shrine
Thee shall the haughty Damon lead;
O lost, if still that heart of thine
On latent, hopeless wishes feed !

Long shall thy love-lit eyes be dim
If soon thou art not bravely free;
The dart shall not be barb'd for him
Which surely shall be barb'd for thee.

Amid the busy scenes of life
Proud Damon shall thy image lose,
Forgotten in Ambition's strife,
Eclips'd by Grandeur's dazzling views.

While thou supine in lonely shades
Shalt pale and sullen willows weave,
Swelling the list of hapless maids
Who sigh disdain'd, neglected grieve.

O! then in time from future woes
A shield in resolution seek!
And twinė no more the thorny rose
'Mid chains thy juster pride shou'd break.

Now, while thou may'st, the charm dissolve
That lightens but with transient ray,
Since clouds are gathering to involve
This shining, faithless, APRIL Day.

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