2.
Four-and-twenty hours I still must
Wait, to see my bliss complete,
As her sidelong glances tell me,
Glances, O how dazzling sweet!
Language is but inexpressive,
Words are awkward and in vain;
Soon as they are said, the pretty
Butterfly flies off again.
But a look may last for ever,
And with joy may fill thy breast,
Making it like some wide heaven,
Full of starry rapture blest.