| Citation |
BG.729.002
6-13 Jan 1729:11 (477)
Sir, If you will favour me to insert the following lines
occasioned by having heard a young lady play on the spinet,
you will highly oblige Your constant reader, Tim Constant.
Boston, Jan. 9.
While fair Belinda's various strains conspire,
To teach her joyful audience to admire;
While from her strings she darts the softest sound
And sweeten all the floating atoms round:
Our heaving pulses feel her vocal hand,
And all our spirits flow at her command;
From sense to sense the winning charmers strays,
Controuls our breasts, and on our heart-strings plays;
Directs our thoughts, bids all our wills give way,
And rules the very passions we obey.
By turns we fear, we hope, we fall, we rise
The vessels of her hand, as of her eyes;
Now sunk, now rais'd, now cherish'd, now distrest,
Or sweetly wretched, or more sweetly blest.
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