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And upon thy lips shall dwell
Thus my fair one, may you shine, Till some youth, by fate divine, Scorn'd the light fantastic crew, Rests his happiness on you; And you pour into his breast Joys like what thy sire confest, When in Hymen's happy band He receiv'd Eliza's hand.
Oн, born to bless some youth unknown,
She paints-ah, hardly paints from life,-
Let me, my Fair, direct your choice,
And trust me, I, my gentle dame,
Would you be happy?-Yes, you wou'd: Then let the favor'd youth be good, Else every tender thought remove, Where there's no virtue, far be love, But where bright glows that heavenly flame, Virtue and love become the same. Scorning the pert, the dull, the vain, The wretch who thirsts for sordid gain, Let fair sincerity and truth Adorn thine only-favor'd youth, To these humility be join'd, That fairest virtue of the mind.
Mark well his looks: let them impart
Mark his behaviour: love inspires
Be sure let cheerfulness divine Inspire the heart that's made for thine,
For that, when join'd with manly sense,
These virtues let us now unite
Thus have I drawn th' ideal man That may deserve deserving FAN. And know you none whom this is like? None where resemblance strong may strike? Or is there this distinguish'd one?—
Be he or not as yet unknown,
On foreign or on English ground
I'll exercise my magic powers,
And date from thence your happiest hours.
But if, rejecting my advice, As fancy's form, and over-nice,