Say , smiling, toothless, trembling thing,
With twinkling eye, and falter'd speech;
Aiming at fruit beyond thy reach,
And tott'ring thro' the frolic ring,
With cheek as blooming as a peach
In winter,
And eyes, that hearts of oak, could splinter.
Say, why,
When Cupid woo'd thee to be kind,
Did'st thou not melt thy cruel mind?
Why turn away, in scorn thy lips?
Think'st thou the young love affectation?
Think'st thou they view with adoration
A full moon in—eclipse!