ELIZA IN ANSWER TO * * * *.
And durst thou, then, insulting youth, demand
A second spoil from love’s impov’rish’d store?
Shall strains like thine a second kiss command,
Thankless for one, because I gave no more?
One lamp eradiates all yon azure heav’n,
One polar star directs the pilot’s way;
Yet what bold wretch complains no more are giv’n,
Or doubts the blessing of each friendly ray?
One tim’rous kiss, which multitudes might bode,
At once thy sun and guiding star had prov’d,
If, while thy lips beneath its pressure glow’d,
And thy tongue flatter’d—thou has truly lov’d.
The flame which burns upon the virgin’s cheek,
The rising sigh, half utter’d, half supprest,
To him who fondly loves, will more than speak
What wav’ring thoughts divide th’ impassion’d breast.
Such soft confusion could the Moor disarm,
And his rough heart, like Desdemona’s, move;
But soon her easy weakness broke the charm,
And, ere her life she lost, she lost her love.
No—if I hate thee, wherefore should I press
A treach’rous contract with love’s fav’rite seal?
And, if I wish thy future hours to bless,
Ah! why, too soon, that anxious care reveal?
A ready conquest oft’ the victor scorns;
His laurels fade whose foe ere battle yields;
No shouts attend the warrior who returns
To claim the palm of uncontested fields.
But banish lawless wishes from thy soul,
While yet my hate or love is undeclar’d;
Perhaps, ere many years in circles roll,
Thoul’t think Eliza but a poor reward.
For, oh! my kisses ne’er shall teem with art,
My faithful bosom form but one design—
To study well the wife’s, the mother’s art,
And learn to keep thee, ere I make thee mine.