Oh! while all-conscious Memory holds her power,
Can I forget that sweetly-painful hour,
When from those eyes, with lovely lightning fraught,
My fluttering spirits first th’ infection caught?
When, as I gazed, my faltering tongue betray’d
The heart’s quick tumults, or refused its aid;
While the dim light my ravished eyes forsook,
And every limb, unstrung with terror, shook:
With all her powers, dissenting Reason strove
To tame at first the kindling flame of Love: