Classic Poem

Guilt 's grim attendants croud my loathing sight,
And lordly reason scorns my lowly love;
But all in vain! it pleads prescription's right,
No pow'r can quench it, and no force remove.

My thoughtless childhood suck'd the precious bane,
With growing years the infant passion grew;
Now twisted to the fibres of my heart,
It laughs at reason with a scornful brow.

Tho' shame with redd'ning cheeks obscure her charms,
And infamy her native beauties shroud;
The lovely Sylvia pictur'd in my breast,
Like mid-day sun dispels the dark'ning cloud.

The smile of youth still haunts my asking thought;
I hear the accents of the yielding maid,
And shrink below prevailing passion's pow'r,
What wise men dictated, and sages said.