Page:Poems (Barbauld).djvu/88

78 Why hould't them wate uch precious howers, That fall like dew on wither'd flowers, But dying paion ne'er retor'd? In beauty's empire is no mean, And woman, either lave or queen, Is quickly corn'd when not ador'd.

Thoe liquid pearls from either eye, Which might an eatern empire buy, Unvalued here and fruitles fall; No art the eaon can renew When love was young, and true; No tears a wandering heart recall.

Ceae, ceae to grieve, thy tears are vain, Should thoe fair orbs in drops of rain Vie with a weeping outhern ky: