Kentucky Gazette

Seest thou yon girl quick dancing by,
Chasing the painted butterfly,
Unconscious of her power?
Little she recks of lover's sigh,
But sports away the hour.
Dwells beauty in that frolick grace,
The airy bound, the playful face?
In look how saucy and how meek,
In modesty's soft blushing cheek;
Now graceful woman, coy and mild,
Now all that charms us in a child!
Her hazel eyes, unfix'd and bright,
Dazzle with ever changing light,
Like flames, when tossed by the wind;
Now swimming in quick passing sadness,
Now laughing in her soul's pure gladness,
The mirror of her mind.
Her lips! the smiles, those lips that curl,
Twin cherries seem to sever;
And those two rows of living pearl,
Has Ceylon rival'd never.
She shakes her head, to clear her hair.
That clusters o'er her brow so fair;
And the quick motion wakes the grace
That dimples o'er that playful face;
Her light'ning glance, her blush, her smile,
Would force old age to gaze awhile,
Would mis'ry's sigh repress;
None can define the witching spell;
If it be beauty, none can tell;
All feel 'tis loveliness !—
And what is beauty but the pow'r
To steal the soul away?
And what so fair as beauty's flower,
Lit, Genius, by thy ray?