To Mrs.

I — that am Genius of the Lake ,
Would fain old Neptune's trident shake:
Medicinal at my command,
His wave should gently kiss the land.
Won to a Nereid's drooping frame,
Whose youthful charm could altars claim;
When she was all that Love could boast,
Upon that wave's enchanted coast;
When glowing Health, and Beauty's pride,
In bonds of Pleasure were allied.
But Health and Youth have taken flight;
The Nereid is a mortal quite;
Can feel, upon the bed of Pain,
A persecuting Tyrant's chain;
To Solitude and years resign'd,
Her shifted graces crown the mind .
With patient Hope, again to thee,
Salubrious wave, she bends the knee.
Upon thy animated shore.
Her spirits cheer! her smile restore!
Chace from her side the dart of pain,
And melt the iron of her chain!
With health in thy endearments play,
And bless the morning-star of day
That opens through the Winter's tear
To Hope and Love the new-born year.
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