TO THE MISS WEBSTERS.
107
For you, quick Fancy spreads her brightest stores,
Paints high the colour of each opening joy,
Enthusiastic hope to rapture soars,
And untried scenes the busy thoughts employ.
O may her soft enchantment late prolong
The fond romance of innocence and youth!
To elder life no happier hours belong,
No richer cordial dealt by hoary Truth.
Nor fear, while you the gaudy dream pursue,
Life's serious aim and sober joys to miss:
While fluttering pulses dance, and scenes are new,
Your Wish is transport, and your Hopes are bliss.