The heart in Beauty's image Laura bore,
And pass'd, as devious Fancy led, the seat
Of Love, that mourn'd in solitude, but fleet
As air, or gliding meteor;—to adore
The form celestial, and her smiles implore,
Trembling I rose—but fear'd her eyes to meet,
Or too enraptur'd and familiar greet
The lustre of her aspect;—she, no more
 Averse, or blushing to be so desir'd,
With glowing sweetness cheer'd me, and a look
 That angry Jove to softer flames had won:—
My passion then reproving, she forsook,
 And gently vanish'd, as an Evening Sun,
 But left me hopes that Memory inspir'd.