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An Ode, pp.3-4.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

To the Tune of, Polwarth on the Green. 


THO’ beauty, like the rose 

That smiles on Polwarth green, 

In various colours shows, 

As ‘tis by fancy seen: 

Yet all its different glories ly 

United in thy face, 

And vertue, like the sun on high, 

Gives rays to ev’ry grace. 


So charming is her air, 

So smooth so calm her mind, 

That to some Angel’s care 

Each motion seems assign’d: 

But yet so chearful, sprightly, gay, 

The joyful moments fly, 

As if for wings they stole the ray 

She darteth from her eye. 


Kind am’rous Cupids, while 

With tuneful voice she sings, 

Perfume her breath and smile, 

And wave their balmy wings: 

But as the tender blushes rise, 

Sofr innocence doth warm, 

The Soul in blissful extasies, 

Dissolveth in the charm. 

New Words by Different Hands

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