I.

Soft Syren of my soul! when first you smil'd,
 Insensibly, the shaft of Torment flew,
Each tender glance my flutt'ring peace beguil'd;
 Nor yet, the Mistress of my heart, I knew.

II.

Unknown, unseen, but not unfelt, thy charms
 Did silently my simple breast subdue;
Trembling, and pale, I throbb'd with new alarms;
 At last fond Nature pointed fair——to you!

III.

Comparing with the vision of my mind
 Thy frame, I saw it match'd, but more improv'd,
Quickly, my flame to purest height refin'd;
 Sadly, the unfrequented fields I rov'd,
 Fed on thy angel-face, grew pensive, sigh'd, and lov'd.

IV.

With envy, oft the cruel walls, I view'd,
 That held thee close, despairing, paus'd to weep,
Or, if I slumber'd by some chrystal flood;
 Still, thy pure image floated on my fleep:
And often (ruthless Fancy!) did I seem,
To hang, entranced, o'er thy beauteous form,
And oft, I snatch'd Thee, thro' the midnight storm;
Or from the torrent sav'd, my boon a kiss,——
Then would the death-knell interrupt my bliss;
And sorrowing, would I wish, beneath yon Tree,
“Ah! that this last, last death knell toll'd for Me!”