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“In my rich fields now boast the ravage done,
Those lesser spoils,- her brow, her cheek, her hair,
“Nor is the boasted ravage all thine own,
Nor was the field by conquest fairly gained ;
His hand the furrows sunk where thou didst plough,
“ But both unite, for both I here defy;
Spoil ye have made, but have no triumphs won ;
Whilst the pale lovely flower such sweetness still bestows.”
This said, exulting Cupid clapped his wings.
But Jove decreed no force should Love destroy,
Nor time should quell the might of that immortal boy.
TO MISS F. B.
ON HER ASKING FOR MRS. B.'S “ LOVE AND TIME.”
Of Love and Time say what would Fanny know?
Sixteen in envied union meet?
Time without Love is tasteless, dull, and cold,
Love out of Time will fond and doting prove ;
To bright sixteen are all their treasures told,
Love suits the Time, and Time then favours Love.
No longer then of matron brows inquire
gay sixteen they both are in their prime.
SEE where the falling day
In silence steals away
Behind the western hills withdrawn:
Her fires are quenched, her beauty fled,
PLACED OVER A CHIMNEY-PIECE.
SURLY Winter, come not here;
Triumph o'er the withered flower,
The leafless shrub, the ruined bower;
But our cottage come not near ;-
Than the niggard skies afford.
The rigour of the year controul,
And thaw the winter in the soul.