The Night Her Blackest Sable Wore

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The Night her blackest Sable wore,
And gloomy were the Skies;
And glitt'ring Stars there were no more,
Than those in Stella's Eyes:
When at her Father's Gate I knock'd,
Where I had often been,
And Shrowded only with her Smock,
The Fair one let me in.

Fast lock'd within her close Embrace,
She trembling lay asham'd;
Her swelling Breast, and glowing Face,
And every touch inflam'd:
My eager Passion I obey'd,
Resolv'd the Fort to win;
And her fond Heart was soon betray'd,
To yield and let me in.

Then! then! beyond expressing,
Immortal was the Joy;
I knew no greater blessing,
So great a God was I:
And she transported with delight.
Oft pray'd me come again;
And kindly vow'd that every Night,
She'd rise and let me in.

But, oh! at last she prov'd with Bern,
And sighing sat and dull;
And I that was as much concern'd,
Look'd then just like a Fool:
Her lovely Eyes with tears run o'er,
Repenting her rash Sin;
She sigh'd and curs'd the fatal hour,
That e'er she let me in.

But who could cruelly deceive.
Or from such Beauty part;
I lov'd her so, I could not leave
The Charmer of my Heart:
But Wedded and conceal'd the Crime,
Thus all was well again;
And now she thanks the Blessed Hour,
That e'er she let me in.

This work was published before January 1, 1923, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.