Laura Sophia Temple (Лаура София Темпл)

* * *

What is Pleasure?--'tis a bubble,
    Fill'd with empty froth and wind;
Leading on to care and trouble,
    Leaving many a sting behind.

What is Hope? Ah ! 'tis a Siren,
    Who enamours to destroy;
Cunning wiles her form environ,
    Mischief revels in her eye.

What is Reason?--'tis a taper,
    Passion's gust too oft puts out!
'Tis a thin and wand'ring vapour,
    Blown by storms of Thought about.

What is Fortune? She's a gipsey,
    Who delights in odd mistakes;
Oft I think the Jade is tipsey,
    Such a blundering she makes.

What is Love?--an idle méteor
    Playing round the cheated heart,
Dancing o'er each conscious feature,
    Spreading wide th' amusive smart.

What is Friendship?--'tis a cov'ring,
    Art puts on to safer cheat,
O'er its victim kite-like hov'ring,
    While its looks are soft and sweet.

1. The Discarded Lover
2. The Search after Love
3. To the Genius of Romance
4. Song III (Days of my youth, ye are gliding away!)
5. Dreams of the Morning

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