As silver flakes of falling snow
Tell the pure sphere from whence they flow,
So the chaste beauties of her eye
Faintly impart
The chaster heart
Of her for whom I sigh.
Lyddy, however, objected to the last line of each stanza, as she did not
understand what he meant by _sighing_ for her; and he not being able to
solve the question, she seemed to entertain rather a contempt for his
intellects, and palpably gave the preference to one of his
schoolfellows—a _bolder_ boy.
In the next stage toward maturity the poet and lover began to know
better what he would be at; and determined to pay a visit to the fair
one, and try if any lucky circumstance might give him a _delicate_
opportunity of disclosing his sentiments and sufferings, and _why_ he
_sighed_ for her.
He unfortunately found that the innocent cause of his torment had gone
on a tour, and that his interview must be adjourned _sine die_: however,
he explored the garden; sat down in all the arbours; walked pensively
over the flower-plats; peeped into her chamber-window, which was on the
ground-floor, and embroidered with honeysuckles and jasmine: his very
soul swelled with thoughts of love and rural retirement: and thus his
heart, as it were, burst open, and let out a gush of poetry, which he
immediately committed to writing in the garb of a lamentation for the
fair one’s absence, and forced under the window-frame of her
bed-chamber; after which he disconsolately departed, though somewhat
relieved by this effort of his Muse.—The words ran thus: