To a Young Lady

Mr Combe

As Gilead’s plant in every season gives
 Its balmy fragrance to the ambient air
And still continues, while its foliage lives
 To shed its unexhausted perfume there.

So may those charms, which in life’s early day
 Please the chaste eye, and wake the feeling heart
Continue still thro’ life’s protracted way
 From youth to age, their virtues to impart.

And when you wander thro’ the Muse’s page
 Oh may my memory soothe your gentle breast
Whether I still tread life’s long lingering stage,
 Or in the peaceful tomb my ashes rest.