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And then, I know, thy lips would press
Their joy on my half-open bill,
And smile to mark my voice grow less,

My dim eye close, and body thrill,

And give me quick a new caress,

And cry,

There, wanton, take thy fill!"

And then, - but then, O shouldst thou take
And hide me in that breast of snow,
My little heart, o'erfill'd, would break,
With ecstasy thou couldst not know.
Ah! let me first the thought forsake!
I would not be thy bird; no, no!

ODE VII.

THE POET ADDRESSES THE LIPS OF HIS MISTRESS.

DELICATE, half-open'd roses,

Which discloses

Loveliest mouth the gods have given,

Why so coyly be denying

When I'm dying

To inhale your sweets of Heaven?

Could my kisses of desire,

By their fire,

Wither

up your virgin beauty? Goods we have enough for sparing

To be sharing

Is it not a solemn duty?

Lips my lady makes so smiling

For beguiling,

Where the profit to deceive me ?

If the smile that round you glances
So entrances,

Kisses would do more, believe me.

Think, your bloom and shape together

Soon must wither.

Odor gone, and dry the flower,

Who the rivell'd leaves will gather?

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Than be gather'd and rejected!

Were our sweets upon you lavish'd,

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Roses, true.

No more I

press me

To possess ye,

Better pleas'd your sweets to treasure

Where they grow, than, rudely hasting

To be tasting,

Bruise your stem for selfish pleasure.

Delicate, half-open'd roses,

Which discloses

Loveliest mouth the gods have given,
Still your virgin newness cherish,
Though I perish,

Panting for your sweets of Heaven!

ODE VIII.

REGRET.

O LOVELIEST of bowers!

The stream beside thee flowing,

The many-scented flowers

About thy trellis growing,

Bring back, with how much sadness!
My hours of vanish'd gladness.

Was 't not when in the heaven
Day's parting fires were glowing,
And cattle, homeward driven,
Along the fields were lowing,

When sombre grew the mountain,
And light forsook the fountain,

Upon thy seat I plac'd me,
Thy leafy shadows round me,
And ELLEN's beauty grac'd thee;
To whom with vows I bound me,
To love, and love her ever,
While flow'd that gentle river?

She listen'd to my story,
Believ'd the love I taught her,
Till shone in all her glory
The moon upon the water,

And for the hues of even

There glow'd a brighter heaven.

Then long we seem'd attending

The crickets' lazy chorus,
(Its murmurs softly blending
The rivulet before us,

The polish'd pebbles laving,)
Nor less the willows waving..

Her hand my own encloses,

The while my arms enfold her,

And timidly reposes

Her head upon my shoulder,

The dark hair o'er it streaming,

Through which her eyes were gleaming.

But tears rain'd down in sorrow,

Her breast heav'd with emotion,

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And anxious thoughts beset her,
Through fear I should forget her.

But love soon dry'd the shower,
Restor❜d the peace between us.
We left the shady bower

That never more should screen us;
And tow'rd her father's dwelling
I took my way with ELLEN.

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And must the truest pleasure
Be always thus the briefest ?

Each good we fain would treasure

Soon waste; most soon the chiefest ? Where, ELLEN, are thy graces

Thy worth? I see their places.

O loveliest of bowers!

The stream beside thee flowing,

The many-scented flowers

About thy trellis growing,

?

Bring back, with too much sadness!
My hours of vanish'd gladness.

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