SONG.
To Chloe kind and Chloe fair,With sparkling eye and flowing hair,Tune the harp, and raise the song;Such as to Beauty doth belong!Let the strain be sweet and clear;Such as through the listening ear,In well-according harmony,May with the 'tranced soul agree!She is Pleasure's blooming Queen:In the Morn more fresh her mien,When awaken'd from repose,Than the summer's dewy rose:In the Ev'ning brighter farThan the ocean-bathed star. And when Night the friend of LoveBids the silent hour improve,To the ravish'd senses SheGives joy, and bliss, and ecstasy.