She strove in vain; subdued by charms divine,
My soul a victim fell at Beauty’s shrine.
Oft from the din of bustling life I strayed,
In happier scenes to see my lovely maid;
Full oft, where Thames his wandering current leads,
We roved at evening hour through flowery meads;
There, while my heart’s soft anguish I revealed,
To her with tender sighs my hope appealed:
While the sweet nymph my faithful tale believed,
Her snowy breast with secret tumult heaved;