137
FRAGMENT.
I saw her amid pleasure's gayest haunts—
Her black hair bound with roses, which grew pale
By the vermilion of the cheek's rich dye;
And when she mov'd, those ebon tresses wav'd
Upon the air, as love's wing had just past
And fann'd them: such a lip of sweets and smiles
Young Hebe wore, when treading 'mid the stars,
Herself a fairer one, she held the cup
Of sparkling nectar. She was, 'mid the gay,
The gayest of the throng; in her dark eye,
