THE LADY's MUSEUM, An ODE

How long from thy inchanting sway Shall I my freedom, Love, maintain! The young, the beauteous, and the gay Still spread the pleasing snare in vain.

The study'd air, the borrow'd grace, All affectation's numerous wiles, Send blunted darts from ev'ry face, Conceal'd in blushes, sighs, and smiles.

For these my heart feels no alarms, Whose honest wish is but to prove The genuine force of artless charms, The soft simplicity of love.

The heaving bosom's fall and rise, Compassion only should display. The glance that can my soul surprise To wit must owe the pointed ray.

The smile that would my soul inflame, Good nature only must bestow. Sweet modesty, ingen'ous shame, Must give the kindling cheek to glow.

Mere outward charms the mind delude To own a short compulsive reign, By wit, and virtue when subdu'd, She forges for herself her chain.