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On thee, blest youth, a father's hand confers
As on she moves with hesitating grace,
At each response the sacred rite requires,
O’er her fair face what wild emotions play!
Ah soon, thine own confest, ecstatic thought!
YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF LADY * *
Ah! why with tell-tale tongue reveal *
For this presumption, soon or late,
* Alluding to come verses which she had written on an elder sister.
The sun-beams streak the azure skies, And line with light the mountain's brow: With hounds and horns the hunters rise, And chase the roebuck thro' the snow.
From rock to rock, with giant-bound,
The goats wind slow their wonted way,
And while the torrent thunders loud,