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Ah luckless Nymph! that fascinating breast Pure as the whitest of the Alpine snows Which heav'd at tales of excellence distrest And lost in others pangs its own repose: Bemoan'd the innovations of decay And blaz'd & wept, & [[underline]] perish'd [[/underline]] like the genial day. Here rude intemperance the weak annoy'd Here habit, gave the lesser evils birth; With cruel industry were both employ'd To weave their strength, & banish modest worth; They burst those chords which made the bosom swell And trembling [[underline]] mark'd its [[/underline]] way to pity's silent cell. Here high [[unclear]] vanity, of motley hue Superior hail'd her congregated fools, Who scoff'd the virtues as they rose in view And wrote in adament her baneful rules While the seducing lute's enerving strain Beguil'd the hood [[underline]] wink'd [[/underline]] throng from intellectual pain. Here many a heart for godlike efforts brac'd Was riv'd & sully'd by pollution's breath. Their generous atoms were by vice disgrac'd They found alas! the truth of life in death. Thus hinds are led when shut from Cynthia's ray By brilliant faithless gleams, thro' ruins miry way.
