Delia

I DELIA's beauties would disclose, More blooming than the blushing rose, And sweeter than the spring: She fairest is of all the fair, To ev'ry grove I'll this declare, Of Beauty's queen I sing.

Aid then my song each smiling Muse, Your melody you can't refuse To celebrate her charms; Inspire to praise in purest rhime Her—whose mild beauties are divine, And all my breast alarm.

Steal silent by ye murm'ring streams, Let echo swell the tender themes, The themes her praise rehearse: Her praise shall employ my breath, And nought but all-devouring Death Shall end the pleasing verse.

To paint the lustre of her eyes, An azure stolen from the skies, Would need a Sapho's tongue: Her share, her tuneful voice that thrills, And all the soul with rapture fills, These must remain unsung.

Her gentle sympathetic heart, Fond to assuage Affliction's smart, Can drop the crystal tear; Like gracious Heav'n she wears a smile That would the fiercest pains beguile, And soften rigid care.

Good sense and virtue, hand in hand, The graces all, a genial band, Upon her steps attend: From charms so striking to the sight, So pregnant with sincere delight, What can the heart defend?

Her modest worth, no wily art, Engaged my captivated heart To cherish fond desires; 'Twas Beauty taught me to admire, But Virtue's bloom that did inspire These firm undying fires,

Supremely blest in Delia's love, From her embrace I'd ne'er remove, Nor e'er inconstant stray; But spending life in tranquil ease, Make it my study how to please, And blithsome pass each day.

Could we our joys and sorrows share, Double each bliss, dissolve each care, T'would sure transporting prove: Together glide the sea of life, Avoid ambition, banish strife, And seek immortal love.