To the mild sunshine only half display’d,
That shunn’d its bashful graces to disclose,
And in its veil of verdure sought a shade:
Or like Aurora did thy charms appear,
(Since mortal form ne’er vied with aught so bright,)
Aurora, smiling from her tranquil sphere,
O’er vale and mountain shedding dew and light.
Now riper years have doom’d no grace to fade;
Nor youthful charms, in all their pride array’d,
Excel, or equal, thy neglected form.