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TO THE

YOUNGEST DAUGHTER

OF

LADY **.

An! why with tell-tale tongue reveal*

What most her blushes would conceal?

Why lift that modest veil to trace

The seraph-sweetness of her face?

Some fairer, better sport prefer;

And feel for us, if not for her.

For this presumption, soon or late,

Know, thine shall be a kindred fate.

Alluding to some verses which she had written on an

elder sister.

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Another shall in vengeance rise

Sing Harriet's cheeks, and Harriet's eyes;

And, echoing back her wood-notes wild,

-Trace all the mother in the child!

As thro' the hedge-row shade the violet steals,

And the sweet air its modest leaf reveals;

Her softer charms, but by their influence known,

Surprise all hearts, and mould them to her own.

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A bee-hive's hum shall sooth my ear;

A willowy brook, that turns a mill,

With many a fall shall linger near.

The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch,

Shall twitter from her clay-built nest;

Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch,

And share my meal, a welcome guest.

Around my ivied porch shall spring

Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew;

And Lucy, at her wheel, shall sing,

In russet gown and apron blue.

The village-church, among the trees,

Where first our marriage-vows were giv'n,

With merry peals shall swell the breeze,

And point with taper spire to heav'n.

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WHEN by the green-wood side, at summer eve,

Poetic visions charm my closing eye;

And fairy-scenes, that Fancy loves to weave,

Shift to wild notes of sweetest Minstrelsy;

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