OF TEMPER.
11
Whose quick vibrations, without end, impart
Pleasure and pain to the responsive heart.
As Zephyr's breath the willing chord inspires,
Whispering soft music to the trembling wires,
So with fond care I regulate, unseen,
The softer movements of this nice machine;
Temper, my earthly name, the nurse of Love!
But call'd Sophrosyne in realms above!
When lovely Woman, perfect at her birth,
Blest with her early charms the wond'ring earth,
Her soul, in sweet simplicity array'd,
Nor shar'd my guidance, nor requir'd my aid.
Her tender frame, nor confident nor coy,
Had every fibre tun'd to gentle joy:
No vain caprices swell'd her pouting lip;
No gold produc'd a mercenary trip;
Soft innocence inspir'd her willing kiss,
Her love was nature, and her life was bliss.
Guide of his reason, not his passion's prey,
She tam'd the savage, Man, who bless'd her sway.
Pleasure and pain to the responsive heart.
As Zephyr's breath the willing chord inspires,
Whispering soft music to the trembling wires,
So with fond care I regulate, unseen,
The softer movements of this nice machine;
Temper, my earthly name, the nurse of Love!
But call'd Sophrosyne in realms above!
When lovely Woman, perfect at her birth,
Blest with her early charms the wond'ring earth,
Her soul, in sweet simplicity array'd,
Nor shar'd my guidance, nor requir'd my aid.
Her tender frame, nor confident nor coy,
Had every fibre tun'd to gentle joy:
No vain caprices swell'd her pouting lip;
No gold produc'd a mercenary trip;
Soft innocence inspir'd her willing kiss,
Her love was nature, and her life was bliss.
Guide of his reason, not his passion's prey,
She tam'd the savage, Man, who bless'd her sway.
