134. TO A YOUNG LADY.

Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid--

Silent and chaste she steals along,

Far from the world's gay busy throng:

With gentle yet prevailing force,

Intent upon her destined course;

Graceful and useful all she does,

Blessing and blest where'er she goes;

Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,

And Heaven reflected in her face.

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