Classic Poem

Each soft tender youth, who in soft tender lays,
In the service of beauty would venture for praise;
Must fly to the meadows, the fields, and the groves,
And sollicit the aid of the graces and loves;
Then talk of her eyes, her lips, bosom and arms,
And the red-fisted lais is a Venus in charms.

Plain Susan, and Dolly, no longer must down,
Nor Roger, or Dick, for each rustical clown,
The muses must christen them over again,
Plump Doll is a nymph, and stout Roger a swain.
Then Damon, and Chloe, to prattle of love,
Must wander a while in the eglantine grove.

Then the sky lark, the wood lark, the linnet, and thrush,
In concert must join on each shrub, tree, or bush;
Tho' charming the prospect, and tuneful their song,
Yet mind to say this as she passes along.
That her voice, tho' alas! like a peacock she squall,
Is softer, and stronger, and sweeter than all.

Example next teaches the garden to seek,
And the rose, and the lily unite on her cheek:
Each flower that's valued for odour or hue,
At her presence must strait-way spring up to the view;
Yet blooming and gay, as the nymph passes by,
They for envy must instantly wither and die.

When she walks, oh! ye gods, how majestic her air,
Not Jove's haughty queen can with Chloe compare;
The test of perfection her person must be,
Tho' majestic, yet modest; tho' modest, yet free.
When she deigns to come forth to rejoice the glad plain,
The graces, attendant,—must hold up the train.

Thus externally drest, away to her mind,
Her sense is a wonder so great! so resin'd!
Tho' perceiving her wit, and her judgment, tho' just,
'Tis with candour and diffidence always exprest:
Thus proceed, my young bard, and I warrant ere long,
You produce that strange medley—yclept, a love song.