ENG 2106 Lecture Notes - Thrice, Ope, Twain
8 Mar 2014
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I sing -- this verse to c---, muse! is due; Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, If she inspire, and he approve my lays. Sol thro" white curtains shot a tim"rous ray, And op"d those eyes that must eclipse the day; Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock"d the ground, And the press"d watch return"d a silver sound. "twas he had summon"d to her silent bed. A youth more glitt"ring than a birth-night beau, (that ev"n in slumber caus"d her cheek to glow) Seem"d to her ear his winning lips to lay, And thus in whispers said, or seem"d to say. If e"er one vision touch"d thy infant thought, Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught, With golden crowns and wreaths of heav"nly flowers, Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. These, tho" unseen, are ever on the wing, Hang o"er the box, and hover round the ring.
