Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh,
Unfriended live, unpitied die.
Smollett, in Roderick Random, 1748.
Blest as the immortal gods is he,
The youth whose eyes may look on thee,
Whose ears thy tongue's sweet melody
May still devour.
Thou smilest too?—sweet smile, whose charm
Has struck my soul with wild alarm,
And, when I see thee, bids disarm