Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/166

 With unaffected blushes from his gaze: He saw her charming, but he saw not half The charms her down-cast modesty conceal'd. That very moment love and chaste desire Sprung in his bosom, to himself unknown; For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh, Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn, Should his heart own a gleaner in the field! And thus in secret to his soul he sigh'd.

" pity! that so delicate a form, By beauty kindled, where enlivening sense, And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell, Should be devoted to the rude embrace Of some indecent clown! she looks, methinks, Of old line; and to my mind Recalls that patron of my happy life, From whom my liberal fortune took its rise; Now to the dust gone down; his houses, lands, And once fair-spreading family dissolv'd. 'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat, Urg'd by remembrance sad, and decent pride, Far from those scenes which knew their better days, His aged widow and his daughter live, Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. Romantic wish, would this the daughter were!"

, strict enquiring, from herself he found She was the same, the daughter of his friend, Of bountiful ; who can speak The mingled passions that surpriz'd his heart, And thro' his nerves in shivering transport ran? Then blaz'd his smother'd flame, avow'd, and bold; And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Love, gratitude, and pity wept at once. Confus'd