A Sich

Gentle air, thou breath of lovers, Vapour from a secret fire, Which by thee itself discovers, Ere yet daring to aspire.

Softest note of whisper'd anguish, Harmony's refined part, Striking, while thou seem'st to languish, Full upon the list'ners heart.

Safest messenger of passion, Stealing thro' a cloud of spies, Which constrain the out ward fashion, Close the lips, and guard the eyes.

Shapeless sigh we ne'er can show thee, Form'd but to assault the ear; Yet ere to their cost they know thee, Every nymph may read thee here.