To look at, and to kiss in play.--
My fate is to the hair's allied,
We used to woo her with like pride,

And now we both are far away.

Her charms with equal joy we press'd,
Her swelling cheeks anon caress'd,
Lured onward by a yearning blest,

Upon her heaving bosom fell.
Oh rival, free from envy's sway,
Thou precious gift, thou beauteous prey.

Remain my joy and bliss to tell!

1767-9.
-----
THE BLISS OF ABSENCE.

DRINK, oh youth, joy's purest ray
From thy loved one's eyes all day,

And her image paint at night!
Better rule no lover knows,
Yet true rapture greater grows,

When far sever'd from her sight.