TO A BELLE.
Reading edition
I.
Is it a bliss to see a crowd Gazing on thee, Or like a gilded insect proud In flattery sun thee? Is not there a dearer thing, Than when a fop, with painted wing, Too poor to bless, too weak to sting, Dreams he has won thee?
II.
Is it bliss to think thy charms Are lauded ever; That all would rush into thy arms, And leave thee never? O! is it not a sweeter thought, That only ONE thy love has sought, And in his soul that love is wrought, So deep it cannot sever?
III.
Is it bliss to hear thy praise By all repeated; To dream a round of sunny days, Then find thee cheated? O! happier the hidden flower Within a far secluded bower, Whither some mind of gentle power Has long retreated!
IV.
Is it not bliss to hear thy name From lips so holy? O! better than the transient flame That circles folly. If thou art lovely, thou wilt find Pure worship from so pure a mind; And love that will not leave behind One taint of melancholy.
Written in 1828. J. G. Percival.