Classic Poem

THE BLUNDERING LOVER .

When late I nam'd the only sect I hate,
And on my lip still sharper censure hung,
How quickly then did she that rules my fate,
Check the bold rashness of my froward tongue!
From her displeasure's unaccustom'd glance,
My face, with blushes ting'd, its error found;
And saw that speech no farther must advance
On such unlucky, rude, offensive ground.
Oh ever thus, thou charmer of my soul,
Let ev'ry dang'rous word by thee be check'd;
Let thy sweet eyes my temper's fire controul,
And thy dear hand my careless course direct:
By three fair claims, oh deign to guide my life,
At once the Friend, the Mistress, and the Wife.