The nymph that I lov'd was as…

The nymph that I lov'd was as cheerful as day, And as sweet as the blossoming hawthorn in May; Her temper was smooth as the down on the dove, And her face was as fair as the mother's of love; Tho' mild as the pleasantest Zephyr that sheds And receives gentle odours from flow'ry beds; Yet warm in affection as Phoebus at noon, And as chaste as the silver-white beams of the moon.

Her mind was unsully'd as new fall'n snow, And as lively as tints from young Iris his bow; As clear as the stream, and as deep as the flood; She, tho' witty, was wise; and tho' beautiful, good; The sweets that each virtue, or grace, had in store, She cull'd as the bee does the bloom of each flow'r, Which, treasur'd for me, O! how happy was I! For tho' her's to collect, it was mine to enjoy!