Classic Poem

AH , Laura! while graces and songs,
While smiles, winning smiles you impart;
Indulgence but nurses desire,
I sigh for that treasure, your heart.

‘Yes, take, too presumptuous,’
‘All that Virtue can wish to receive;
Yes, take all that Virtue can grant,
AHeart I had never to give.

‘The Maid of the North, like the lake
That sleeps by her peaceable cot,
Too languishing lives but for one,
Forgetting the world, and forgot.

‘But born where my Ganges expands,
To no partial channels confin'd,
Unfix'd to no object, I flow
With innocent smiles on mankind.

‘Our Asia's bright dames, like their sun,
Cheer all with benevolent reign,
Coy moons Europe's daughters but light
A single disconsolate swain.’