Classic Poem

Ah! charming wrestler! — with what care
For love, Louisa pleads;
The god well pleas'd, accepts her pray'r,
And Julia owns she bleeds.

Oh! could Louisa's winning strain,
Once reach my Delia's ear,
She, too, might own a mutual pain,
And check my frequent tear.

The boast of swains — her sex's pride,
Of ev'ry charm possess'd;
I've lov'd her long, nor aught beside,
Can soothe my wretched breast.

Chaste as her fame, my passion rose,
And Virtue guides it still;
Pure as the lucid stream that slows
From yonder neighb'ring hill.

Try, dear Louisa, try your art,
Your melting notes prolong;
Touch Delia's unrelenting heart,
And mine shall bless your song.