Classic Poem

A MID her flow'rs E LIZA strays,
And as she wanders thro' the maze,
Whose fragrance round perfumes the air,
Knows not herself more sweet and fair.

The Flow'rs their stated task fulfill,
Obedient to her gentle will;
To her, delight and joy they give,
Whose culture bids their beauties live.

The Maid unconscious of her pow'r,
Unconscious of the fleeting hour,
Still wastes, unkind and heedless Fair,
" Her sweetness on the desert air. "

While lost to joy her Lover sighs,
And like the drooping flow'ret dies:
But ne'er must hope like that to prove
E LIZA'S fond regret and love.