• thepercy 60w

    The Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind;
    No less than a wonder by Nature designed.
    She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye;
    And the cause of a flame that never can die !

    Her mouth, from whence wit still obligingly flows,
    Has the beautiful blush, and the smell, of the rose.
    Love and Destiny both attend on her will;
    She wounds with a look; with a frown, she can kill!

    The desperate Lover can hope no redress;
    Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess!
    In Sylvia they meet; so unhappy am I !
    Who sees her, must love; and who loves her, must die!