On her presenting me with a beautiful copy of the Pleasures of Memory
Yes dearest maid, to thee I owe
This sweet companion of my leisure,
To me its numbers ever flow,
A pensive source of mental pleasure
Mayst thou fair maid be ever blest,
In mem’ry’s sweetest, choicest measures,
(In this is every wish expressed,
For this includes all other pleasures.)
Thrice happy those whose mental eyes,
Behold her mirror, pure, transparent,
Without one lurking stain of vice
Upon its polished face apparent.
Oh mayst thou e’er in such a mirror find
Thy perfect form the image of thy mind.