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JUAN BAUTISTA DE ARRIAZA.
135
But not on thee, so lovely born,
Formed of a power divine,
To hold ev'n fate a subject sworn
To every will of thine.
Whilst thou my absence mayst lament,
Thy comfort mayst descry,
By fate a thousand lovers sent
More to thy choice than I.
Some one she pleases me above
To favour chance may show;
But one to love thee as I love,
That none can ever know.
'T was not thy graces won my heart,
Nor yet thy faultless face;
But 't was some sympathy apart
I might from birth retrace.
I long a picture loved to draw
Of charms I fancied true,
And thy perfections when I saw,
The original I knew.
No traveller upon the ground
By sudden lightning thrown,
The blow could more at once confound,
