TO A TIMID YOUNG LADY,
DISTRESSED BY THE ATTENTIONS OF AN AMIABLE, AND _ACCEPTED_
LOVER.
What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes,
Fair Zillia!--Ah! more dear to LOVE the gaze
That _dwells_ upon its object, than the rays
Of that vague glance, quick, as in summer skies
The lightning's lambent flash, when neither rise
Thunder, nor storm.--I mark, while transport plays
Warm in thy Lover's eye, what dread betrays
Thy throbbing heart:--yet why from his soft sighs
Fleet'st thou so swift away?--like the young Hind[1],
That bending stands the fountain's brim beside,
When, with a sudden gust, the western wind
Rustles among the boughs that shade the tide:
See, from the stream, innoxious and benign,
Starting she bounds, with terror vain as thine!
1: “Vitas hinnuleo me similis Chloe.” HORACE.