By those orbits which, oft, I enraptur’d survey,
Which, sparkling Content, the mind’s image pourtray,
While sweet Affability tempers their ray,
I conjure thee to love me Sophia!
By those features, which Grief of her tears can beguile,
Aid the gambols of Mirth, light the burthen of Toil,
Dispensing delight when bedeck’d with a smile,
I conjure thee to love me Sophia!
By thy tongue, which I ne’er have heard prattle amiss,
By thy teeth, snow-drop white, thy lips, teeming with bliss,