When Zephyr, who sighs for the lover's…

When Zephyr, who sighs for the lover's soft bliss, Salutes by surprise the coy rose, Averting her head the declines his fond kiss, Her beautiful sips strive to close. Tho' all mildness the youth of such fragrance possess'd, Transported he feeds on her breath, Nor thoughtless reflects while he feels himself bless'd, To her who thus blesses 'tis death.

Now closer he presses! unable to speak, What must the dear innocent feel! Alarm him ye dew-drops, that roll down each cheek, Her anguish intreat him to heal. Ah! bid him beware, left a moment of joy— Of joy, spite of honor obtain'd— The peace of two minds in an instant destroy, That peace which can ne'er be regain'd.

The rogue hears sage prudence, not seeming to hear; And feels, tho not seeming to feel; His lips check the course of each delicate tear, Then labour her anguish to heal. The breath, just exhausted by one stolen kiss, A thousand chaste kisses restore; And crimson'd with blushes, her beauty and bliss Grow perfect, and lessen no more.