Beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive.
My heart contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
The sacred influence of light appears.
But oh! as to embrace me she inclin'd, I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears.
The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?