An Impromptu. (Anacreontic)

May you, fraught with ev'ry grace, All the charms of mind and face, Ripen fair in wisdom's beam; Thine the bliss that poets dream. Happier still thy prospects shine, And each wish fulfill'd be thine!

Riches make them wings and fly; Envy blasts the buds of joy; Deadly pangs may youth invade, When the rosy cheek must fade; Only virtue can impart Our defence—it soothes the heart, Death disarms, or blunts his dart.