Of all that gives politeness birth,
Of all that claims to please,
In motion, manners, or in mirth,
The surest source is ease.
With silent step, and graceful air,
See gentle Sylvia move;
Whilst heedless gazers, unaware,
Resign their soul to love.
Accomplish'd maid! my trivial rhyme
Must do thy graces wrong;
Who dost not only dance in time,
But steal, like time, along.