Mr Elliott

Written with the pen of a lady whose inkstand the Author found upon his Table

A Fairy left a silver stand,
To tempt to verse a lazy hand,
  That long had cease’d to write,
The pen the charmed fingers seized,
And the dull brain incessant teased
  A stanza to indite.

Ah! could I teach thee, trembling hand
To sing the owner of this stand
  In strains that might deserve her
Thou’dst paint in numbers soft and clear
The homage, willing and sincere
  With which my heart would serve her.

Thou’dst sing of lovely form and face
Of winning all-attractive grace,
  Of charms for ever new.
And, if I might expressions find
To paint the still more lovely mind,
  Its beauties bring to view.

But Ah! enchanted pen — in vain
Dost thou inspire a ready strain
  My heart or head to prove —
The glowing thought disdains the lay
When, wrapt in bliss the livelong day
  I gaze in silent love.