ON RECEIVING FROM A LADY A PRESENT OF A RING by GEORGE CRABBE

A RING to me Cecilia sends --
And what to show? -- that we are friends;
That she with favour reads my lays,
And sends a token of her praise;
Such as the nun, with heart of snow,
Might on her confessor bestow;
Or which some favourite nymph would pay,
Upon her grandsire's natal day,
And to his trembling hand impart
The offering of a feeling heart.

And what shall I return the fair
And flattering nymph? -- A verse? -- a prayer?
For were a Ring my present too,
I see the smile that must ensue; --
The smile that pleases though it stings,
And says -- 'No more of giving rings:
Remember, thirty years are gone,
Old friend! since you presented one!'

Well! one there is, or one shall be,
To give a ring instead of me;
And with it sacred vows for life
To love the fair -- the angel-wife;
In that one act may every grace,
And every blessing have their place --
And give to future hours the bliss,
The charm of life, derived from this;
And when even love no more supplies --
When weary nature sinks to rest; --
May brighter, steadier light arise,
And make the parting moment blest!

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