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Lovely the Virgin-frame, but lovelier far
Her native innocence, whose dart is wing'd
With force resistless, through the roving eye
It strikes into the heart; Leander feels
The pow'rs combin'd of virtue, fear, and shame,
Wrestling with passion; shame repells the thought
By beauty rous'd—Beauty emboldens love.
Though confidence, the foe of cold reserve,
Mans his aspiring bosom, his slow step
Steals to the Idol-maid, his swimming eye
The glance oblique scarce ventures, many a nod
With more than speech seduces; Hero sees
The Traytor's ambush'd arts, she sees, and smiles
Conscious of charms celestial; oft her vest
The blushes' sweet suffusion clos'd, but soon
Fondly accordant her uplifted look
Meets her Leander; transport fills his soul,
While the lov'd Hero half-reluctant owns
A corresponding flame; the hour he seeks
Sacred to Cyprian vows, when Phœbus' rays
Verge to the Main declining, and thy star,
Meek Hesper, glimmers through the veil of night.
Soon
