To a Young Lady
Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade,1
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid—2
Silent and chaste she steals along,3
Far from the world’s gay busy throng :4
With gentle yet prevailing force,5
Intent upon her destined course ;6
Graceful and useful all she does,7
Blessing and blest where’re she goes ;8
Pure-bosom’d as that watery glass,9
And heaven reflected in her face.10