When Heav’n, sweet Laura! form’d thy mind,
With genius and with taste refin’d,
As if the union were too bright,
It spread the veil of diffidence,
That ev’ry ray, at first intense,
Might shine as soft as lunar light.
To frame a form then Nature strove,
And call’d on Beauty and on Love,
To lodge the mind they priz’d so well:
Completed was the fair design;
Thus blended dew-drops mildly shine
Within the lily’s spotless bell!