To
ETHELINDA
,
On
her
doing
my
Verses
the
honour
of
wearing
them
in
her
bosom
.
Written
at
Thirteen
.
I.
HAppy
verses
!
that
were
prest
In
fair
Ethelinda's
breast
!
Happy
muse
,
that
didst
embrace
The
sweet
,
the
heav'nly-fragrant
place
!
Tell
me
,
is
the
omen
true
,
Shall
the
bard
arrive
there
too
?
II
.
Oft
thro'
my
eyes
my
soul
has
flown
,
And
wanton'd
on
that
ivory
throne
:
There
with
extatic
transport
burn'd
,
And
thought
it
was
to
heav'n
return'd
.
Tell
me
,
is
the
omen
true
,
Shall
the
body
follow
too
?
III
.
When
first
at
nature's
early
birth
,
Heav'n
sent
a
man
upon
the
earth
,
Ev'n
Eden
was
more
fruitful
found
,
When
Adam
came
to
till
the
ground
:
Shall
then
those
breasts
be
fair
in
vain
,
And
only
rise
to
fall
again
?
IV
.
No
,
no
,
fair
nymph
—
for
no
such
end
Did
heav'n
to
thee
its
bounty
lend
;
That
breast
was
ne'er
design'd
by
fate
,
For
verse
,
or
things
inanimate
;
Then
throw
them
from
that
downy
bed
,
And
take
the
poet
in
their
stead
.