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OF TEMPER.
91


Tell her, the bard, in beauty's wide domain,
Has seen a virgin cheek as richly glow,
A bosom, where the blue meandering vein
Sheds as soft lustre thro' the lucid snow,
Eyes, that as brightly flash with joy and youth,
And locks, that like her own luxuriant flow:
Then say, for then she cannot doubt thy truth,
That the wide earth no female form can show
Where Nature's legend so distinctly tells,
In this fair shrine a fairer spirit dwells."

With curious wonder the reviving maid
View'd this fond homage to her beauty paid;
A second glance o'er every line she cast,
And half pronounc'd and half suppress'd the last
While modest pleasure, and ingenuous pride,
Her burning cheek with deeper crimson dy'd.
O Praise! thy language was by Heaven design'd
As manna to the faint bewilder'd mind: