LINES ON A PORTRAIT OF A LADY

Tender as the sweets of Spring

　Wafted on the Western gale,

When the breeze with dewy wing

　Wanders thro' the Primrose vale;

Tranquil as the hush of night

　To the Hermit's holy dream;

While the Moon with lovely light,

　Quivers on the rippling stream;

Cheerful as the Beams of Morn,

　Laughing on the Mountain's side;

Spotless as the Cygnet's form,

　Heaving on the silver'd Tide.

Who can paint this varied grace,

　Charms that mock the mimic art?

Yet, my Laura! these I trace

　With the pencil of the Heart.

1796