_For the Table Book._
The maiden, with a vivid eye,
Whose breath is measured by her sigh;
The maiden, with a lovely cheek,
Whose blushes in their virtue break;
Whose pulse and breath would die unblest
If not by changeless Love carest;--
’Tis she that gives her partner’s life
The perfect and the happy wife
_Sans changer_.
If choice be true, she proves a friend
Whose friendship fails not to the end;
She sweetens dear affection’s power
That lasteth to life’s parting hour:
Her heart beats that her love might go
Through every pang her Love’s could know,
And yields its latest throb, to give
Truth to that heart she loves, to live
_Sans changer_.
----.
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