[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
BLest as th’ immortal Gods is he,
The youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while,
Softly speak and sweetly smile.
–
‘Twas this bereav’d my soul of rest,
And rais’d such tumults in my breast;
For while I gaz’d in transport tost,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.
–
My bosom glow’d; the subtile flame
Ran quick thro’ all my vital frame;
O’er my dim eyes a darkness hung,
My ears with hollow murmures rung.
–
In dewy damps my limbs were chill’d,
My blood with gentle horrors thrill’d,
My feeble pulse forgot to play,
I fainted, sunk, and dy’d away.
