[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.