Page:Odes on several subjects - Akenside (1745).djvu/24

20 When gilds the shaded sky, Slow-winding thro' the well-known grove, Methinks I see you cast your eye Back to the morning scenes of love: Her tender look, her graceful way, The pretty things you heard her say, Afresh your struggling fancy move.

Then tell me, is your soul intire? Does wisdom calmly hold her throne? Then can you question each desire, Bid this remain, and that begone? No tear half-starting from your eye? No kindling blush you know not why? No stealing sigh or stifled groan?

Away with this unmanly mood! See where the hoary churl appears, Whose hand hath seiz'd the fav'rite good Which you reserv'd for happier years: While side by side the blushing maid Shrinks from his visage half-afraid, Spite of the sickly joy she wears.