Lines Addressed To A Young Lady In Germany, Who, Until Her Sister, Honoured The Author By Walking With Him In The Evening.

A poem by John Carr

Adieu! dear girl! if we are doom'd to part,
Take with thee, take, the blessing of this heart,
Due to thy gentle mind, and cultur'd sense;
Perhaps 'twill please, but, sure, can't give offence.
Tho', when we met, the solar ray was gone,
And on our steps the moon-beam only shone,
Yet well I mark'd thy form and native grace,
And all the sweet expression of thy face;
And pleas'd I listen'd as thy accents fell,
Accents that spoke a feeling mind so well
Lo, when the birds repose at ev'ning hour,
The sweetest of them carols from her bow'r!
So, when the dews the garden's fragrance close,
The night-flow'r[A] blooms, the rival of the rose!

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