Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/83

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
venus and the modern belle.
73

Then she folded, over her form of grace,
A costly robe from an Indian loom,—
But a cloud overshadow'd her exquisite face,
And Love's sunny dimple was hid in the gloom.

"It is useless!" she murmur'd,—" my jewels have lost
All their lustre, since last they illumined my curls!"
And she snatch'd off the treasures, and haughtily tossed,
Into brilliant confusion s gold, rubies, and pearls.

Young Beauty was plainly provoked to a passion;
"And what?" she exclaim'd, "shall the star of the ball
Be seen by the beaux, in a gown of this fashion
Away went the robe,—ribands, laces, and all!

"Oh! Paphian goddess!" she sigh'd in despair,
"Could I borrow that mystic and magical zone,
Which Juno of old condescended to wear,
And which lent her a witchery sweet as your own!"—