That wantons o'er her beauteous face. If, loved one, we must sever'd be, Wouldst thou not wholly fly from me, I still possess this legacy, To look at, and to kiss in play.-- My fate is to the hair's allied, We used to woo her with like pride, And now we both are far away. Her charms with equal joy we press'd, Her swelling cheeks anon caress'd, Lured onward by a yearning blest, Upon her heaving bosom fell. Oh rival, free from envy's sway, Thou precious gift, thou beauteous prey. Remain my joy and bliss to tell! 1767-9. ----- THE BLISS OF ABSENCE. DRINK, oh youth, joy's purest ray From thy loved one's eyes all day, And her image paint at night! Better rule no lover knows, Yet true rapture greater grows, When far sever'd from her sight. Powers eternal, distance, time, Like the might of stars sublime, Gently rock the blood to rest, O'er my senses softness steals, Yet my bosom lighter feels, And I daily am more blest. Though I can forget her ne'er, Yet my mind is free from care, I can calmly live and move; Unperceived infatuation Longing turns to adoration, Turns to reverence my love. Ne'er can cloud, however light, Float in ether's regions bright, When drawn upwards by the sun, As my heart in rapturous calm. Free from envy and alarm, Ever love I her alone! 1767-9. ----- TO LUNA. SISTER of the first-born light, Type of sorrowing gentleness! Quivering mists in silv'ry dress Float around thy features bright; When thy gentle foot is heard, From the day-closed caverns then Wake the mournful ghosts of men, I, too, wake, and each night-bird. O'er a field of boundless span Looks thy gaze both far and wide. Raise me upwards to thy side! Grant this to a raving man! And to heights of rapture raised, Let the knight so crafty peep At his maiden while asleep, Through her lattice-window glazed. Soon the bliss of this sweet view, Pangs by distance caused allays; And I gather all thy rays, And my look I sharpen too. Round her unveil'd limbs I see Brighter still become the glow, And she draws me down below, As Endymion once drew thee. 1767-9. ----- THE WEDDING NIGHT. WITHIN the chamber, far away From the glad feast, sits Love in dread Lest guests disturb, in wanton play, The silence of the bridal bed. His torch's pale flame serves to gild The scene with mystic sacred glow; The room with incense-clouds is fil'd, That ye may perfect rapture know. How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear The chime that warns thy guests to fly! How glow'st thou for those lips so dear, That soon are mute, and nought deny! With her into the holy place Thou hast'nest then, to perfect all; The fire the warder's hands embrace, Grows, like a night-light, dim and small. How heaves her bosom, and how burns Her face at every fervent kiss! Her coldness now to trembling turns, Thy daring now a duty is. Love helps thee to undress her fast,