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TO THE EYE.
THRONE of expression! whence the spirit's ray
Pours forth so oft the light of mental day,
Where fancy's fire, affection's melting beam,
Thought, genius, passion, reign in turn supreme,
And many a feeling, words can ne'er impart,
Finds its own language to pervade the heart;
Thy power, bright orb, what bosom hath not felt,
To thrill, to rouse, to fascinate, to melt?
And by some spell of undefined control,
With magnet-influence touch the secret soul!
Light of the features! in the morn of youth
Thy glance is nature, and thy language, truth:
And ere the world, with all-corrupting sway,
Hath taught e'en thee to flatter and betray,
Th' ingenuous heart forbids thee to reveal,
Or speak one thought that interest would conceal;
While yet thou seem'st the cloudless mirror, given
But to reflect the purity of heaven;
Oh! then how lovely, there unveiled to trace
Th' unsullied brightness of each mental grace!
G
