And beckons tow’rd yon opening shades?—
No harlot-form, dissembling guile
With wanton air and painted smile,
Lures to enchanted halls or bowers,
Where festive Vice consumes his hours.
Her mild and modest looks dispense
The simple charm of innocence:
And a sweet wildness in her eye
Sparkles with young sincerity.—
Lead on, fair guide, ere wakes the dawn,