Australian and Other Poems/To Chloris
TO CHLORIS
Witty Chloris! arch young Chloris!
Sweetest maid of Sydney town,
I perceive she grows a woman,
And can take admirers down.
Yet I knew her when ten summers
Scarce had breathed on her cheek—
But even then she was a lady
Mixed of quizzical and meek.
Yes, her air was very queenly,
As amid "those babes," she stood;
And her face was very solemn,
Wearing its inquiring mood.
Rarely now she lights our pathways,
True, the lads did gaze too hard;
But the treasure hide not, Chloris,
Once was seen in thy regard.
Strong's the preacher's word, when mildness
Mingles with his meet reproof;
Strong's the mother's look of sadness,
For an erring child's behoof;
Strong's the whisper heard within us,
When the heart is good and sound;
But in Chloris' lovely features
Better teaching far is found.
Yes, where grace and beauty mingle,
There is virtue's surest friend;
I, for all that teaches goodness.
To that face the world commend.
Triumph in your charms subduing,
For your praise is spoken still;
But I sing not Chloris scornful,
Chloris fair I ever will.