THE LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS ON HER BIRTHDAY by THOMAS CAMPBELL

IF any white-winged Power above
My joys and griefs survey,
The day when thou wert born, my love --
He surely blessed that day.

I laughed (till taught by thee) when told
Of Beauty's magic powers,
That ripened life's dull ore to gold,
And changed its weeds to flowers.

My mind had lovely shapes portrayed;
But thought I earth had one
Could make even Fancy's visions fade
Like stars before the sun?

I gazed, and felt upon my lips
The unfinished accents hang:
One moment's bliss, one burning kiss
To rapture changed each pang.

And though as swift as lightning's flash
Those tranced moments flew,
Not all the waves of time shall wash
Their memory from my view.

But duly shall my raptured song,
And gladly shall my eyes
Still bless this day's return, as long
As thou shalt see it rise.

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