by John Cunningham
C LARINDA'S lips I fondly press'd,
While rapture fill'd each vein;
And as I touch'd her downy breast,
Its tenant slept serene.
So soft a calm, in such a part,
Betrays a peaceful mind;
Whilst my uneasy, fluttering heart,
Would scarcely be confin'd.
A stubborn oak the shepherd sees,
Unmov'd, when storms descend;
But, ah! to every sporting breeze,
The myrtle bough must bend.
Last updated January 14, 2019