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19
If lore did expectations raise,
To kneel in Hymen’s shrine;
I must consider then, your lays,
A pretty Valentine.
ACROSTIC.
I s there a heart that does not feel
L ove’s gentle impulse lurking steal,
O n downy pinions, to his breast?
V ainly I hail the pleasing guest,
E xcept, in off’ring of my heart,
Y our’s take in mine an equal part.
O tell me this, and love shall soon
U nite our two fond hearts in one.
ANOTHER.
H ow sweet are the early spring flow’rs.
E nliv’ning the winter-clad plain!
N ot a bird on the tree but carols to see
R eviving those beauties and bow’rs,
You’ve sigh’d for with me, but in vain.
ANOTHER.
S hall I still in secret pine,
