Led Britain's conquering squadrons o'er the wave: Where full in view Augusta's spires are seen, With flowery lawns and waving woods between, An humble habitation rose, beside Where Thames meandering rolls his ample tide: There live the hope and pleasure of his life, 390 A pious daughter, and a faithful wife: For his return with fond officious care, Still every grateful object these prepare: Whatever can allure the smell or sight, Or wake the drooping spirits to delight. "This blooming maid in virtue's path to guide The admiring parents all their care applied; Her spotless soul to soft affection train'd, No voice untuned, no sickening folly stain'd! Not fairer grows the lily of the vale, 400 Whose bosom opens to the vernal gale: Her eyes, unconscious of their fatal charms, Thrill'd every heart with exquisite alarms: Her face, in beauty's sweet attraction dress'd, The smile of maiden innocence express'd; While health, that rises with the new-born day, Breathed o'er her cheek the softest blush of May: Still in her look complacence smiled serene; She moved the charmer of the rural scene! "'Twas at that season when the fields resume 410 Their loveliest hues, array'd in vernal bloom: Yon ship, rich freighted from the Italian shore, To Thames' fair banks her costly tribute bore: While thus my father saw his ample hoard, From this return, with recent treasures stored, Me, with affairs of commerce charged, he sent To Albert's humble mansion--soon I went! Too soon, alas! unconscious of the event. There, struck with sweet surprise and silent awe, The gentle mistress of my hopes I saw; 420 There, wounded first by love's resistless arms, My glowing bosom throbb'd with strange alarms: My ever charming Anna! who alone Can all the frowns of cruel fate atone; Oh! while all-conscious memory holds her power, Can I forget that sweetly-painful hour, When from those eyes, with lovely lightning fraught, My fluttering spirits first the infection caught? When as I gazed, my faltering tongue betray'd The heart's quick tumults, or refused its aid; 430 While the dim light my ravish'd eyes forsook, And every limb, unstrung with terror, shook; With all her powers dissenting reason strove To tame at first the kindling flame of love: She strove in vain; subdued by charms divine, My soul a victim fell at beauty's shrine. Oft from the din of bustling life I stray'd, In happier scenes to see my lovely maid; Full oft, where Thames his wandering current leads, We roved at evening hour through flowery meads; 440 There, while my heart's soft anguish I reveal'd,