Say what slim youth, with moist perfumes Bedaub'd, now courts thy fond embrace, There, where the frequent rose-tree blooms, And makes the grot so sweet a place? Pyrrha, for whom with such an air Do you bind back your golden hair? So seeming in your cleanly vest, Whose plainness is the pink of taste -- Alas! how oft shall he protest Against his confidence misplac't, And love's inconstant pow'rs deplore, And wondrous winds, which, as they roar, Throw black upon the alter'd scene -- Who now so well himself deceives, And thee all sunshine, all serene For want of better skill believes, And for this pleasure has presag'd Thee ever dear and disengag'd. Wretched are all within thy snares, The inexperienc'd and the young! For me the temple witness bears Where I my drooping weeds have hung, And left my votive chart behind To him that rules both wave and wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOLUNTEER by ELBRIDGE JEFFERSON CUTLER THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THEN AND NOW by JEAN JACQUES ANTOINE AMPERE A MARLOW MADRIGAL by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY THE HARES; A FABLE by JAMES BEATTIE |