To Marion
MARION! why that pensive brow? What disgust to life hast thou? Change that discontented air; Frowns become not one so fair. 'Tis not Love disturbs...
This is a poetry & verse.
MARION! why that pensive brow? What disgust to life hast thou? Change that discontented air; Frowns become not one so fair. 'Tis not Love disturbs thy rest, Love's a stranger to thy breast: _He_, in dimpling smiles, appears, Or mourns in sweetly timid tears; Or bends the languid eyelid down, But _shuns_ the cold forbidding 'frown'. Then resume thy former fire, Some will _love_, and all admire!…
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