TO THE YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF LADY **.Ah! why with tell-tale tongue revealWhat most her blushes would conceal?[1]Why lift that modest veil to traceThe seraph-sweetness of her face?Some fairer, better sport prefer;And feel for us, if not for her.For this presumption, soon or late,Know thine shall be a kindred fate.Another shall in vengeance rise—Sing Harriet’s cheeks, and Harriet’s eyes;And, echoing back her wood-notes wild,—Trace all the mother in the child![1]Alluding to some verses which she had written on an elder sister.
Ah! why with tell-tale tongue revealWhat most her blushes would conceal?[1]Why lift that modest veil to traceThe seraph-sweetness of her face?Some fairer, better sport prefer;And feel for us, if not for her.For this presumption, soon or late,Know thine shall be a kindred fate.Another shall in vengeance rise—Sing Harriet’s cheeks, and Harriet’s eyes;And, echoing back her wood-notes wild,—Trace all the mother in the child!
[1]Alluding to some verses which she had written on an elder sister.