_On seeing a young Lady darning Stockings._
ALONG the stocking's foot, with ease and grace
Your fingers, lovely Mira, when you move,
On them with eye admiring I will gaze,
And drink deep draughts of all resistless love.
Assume thy gloves, my most enchanting fair,
When next your stockings you begin to mend,
For though full white the hose, they yet appear
As saffron yellow, near thy lily hand.
As constant as your all obedient thread
Does thy bright needle's devious path pursue,
So does each thought of my poor brainless head
For ever dwell, divinest nymph, on you.
Oft as thy needles pierce the yielding hose,
So oft thy beauties pierce my yielding breast:
Oh then compassionate my deep felt woes,
And bid awhile the polish'd needle rest.
Or if one idle minute you disdain,
On me be exercis'd your mending art,
Yes, lovely maid, to ease of my pain,
Come, darn the hole that rankles in my heart.
_Salem Gazette,_ August 26, 1800.
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