On a Bank of Flowers

Her closèd eyes, like weapons sheath’d,

Were seal’d in soft repose;

Her lip, still as she fragrant breath’d,

It richer dyed the rose;

The springing lilies, sweetly prest,

Wild-wanton kissed her rival breast;

He gaz’d, he wish’d,

He mear’d, he blush’d,

His bosom ill at rest.

Her robes, light-waving in the breeze,

Her tender limbs embrace;

Her lovely form, her native ease,

All harmony and grace;

Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

A faltering, ardent kiss he stole;

He gaz’d, he wish’d,

He fear’d, he blush’d,

And sigh’d his very soul.

As flies the partridge from the brake,

On fear-inspired wings,

So Nelly, starting, half-awake,

Away affrighted springs;

But Willie follow’d-as he should,

He overtook her in the wood;

He vow’d, he pray’d,

He found the maid

Forgiving all, and good.