Ah! why with tell-tale tongue reveal [1]
What most her blushes would conceal?
Why lift that modest veil to trace
The seraph-sweetness of her face?
Some fairer, better sport prefer;
And feel for us, if not for her.
For this presumption, soon or late,
Know thine shall be a kindred fate.
Another shall in vengeance rise--
Sing Harriet's cheeks, and Harriet's eyes;
And, echoing back her wood-notes wild,
--Trace all the mother in the child!
To The Youngest Daughter Of Lady **
Samuel Rogers
(1)
Poem topics: child, fate, feel, mother, wild, tongue, rise, face, prefer, reveal, thine, sport, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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