Your cheeks soft bloom is unimpair'd,
Your beauties still are daily bright'ning,
Your eye for conquest comes prepar'd,
The forge of love's resistless lightning.

9.

Arm'd thus to make their bosoms bleed,
Many will throng to sigh like me, love,
More constant they may prove indeed,
Fonder alas! they ne'er can be, love!

* * * * *


TO WOMAN.


Surely experience might have told me,
That all must love thee, who behold thee;
Surely experience might have taught,
A woman's promises are naught,
But plac'd in all thy charms before me,
All I forget, but to _adore_ thee.
Oh memory! thou choicest blessing,
When join'd with hope, when still possessing;
Thou whisperest, as our hearts are beating,
"What oft we've done, we're still repeating."
But how much curst by every lover,