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24
THE TRIUMPHS


CANTO II.

YE radiant nymphs! whose opening eyes convey
Warmth to the world, and lustre to the day!
Think what o'ershadowing clouds may cross your brain,
Before those lovely lids shall close again!
What funds of patience twelve long hours may ask,
When cold Discretion claims her daily task!
Ah! think betimes! and, while your morning care
Sheds foreign odours o'er your fragrant hair,
Tinge your light spirit with that mental sweet,
Which may not be exhal'd by passion's heat;
But charm the sense with undecaying power,
Thro' every chance of each diurnal hour!
Oh! might you all perceive your toilets crown'd
With such cosmetics as Serena found!
For, to the warning vision fondly true,
Now the quick fair-one to the toilet flew: