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OF TEMPER.
85


With such quick joy, in innocence as young,
The soft Serena from her pillow sprung,
Pleas'd to awake from her terrific dream,
And feel the cheerful sun's returning beam.
Eager she rose, in busy thought, nor staid
The wonted summons of her punctual maid,
And as her own fair hands adjust her vest,
The guardian cincture flutters on her breast;
For fondly, when she wak'd, or when she slept,
Still round her heart th' important zone she kept.
Thou happy girdle! to thy charge be just!
Firm be thy threads, and faithful to their trust;
For hours approach, when all the stores they hide
Of magic virtue, must be strongly tried!—
Now, while her kind domestic heart intends
To please her early sire, the nymph descends;
But sleep, who left the fair with sudden flight,
With late wings hover'd o'er the good old knight;
And the chill circle of the lone saloon
Informs the shiv'ring maid she rose too soon.