Jane, his early playmate, was now the woman
grown; their intercourse was of a more intellectual kind than formerly;
they discoursed of poetry and music; she played on the harpsichord, and he
accompanied her with his flute. The music may not have been very artistic,
as he never performed but by ear; it had probably as much merit as the
poetry, which, if we may judge by the following specimen, was as yet but
juvenile:
TO A YOUNG LADY ON VALENTINE'S DAY
WITH THE DRAWING OF A HEART
With submission at your shrine,
Comes a heart your Valentine;
From the side where once it grew,
See it panting flies to you.
Take it, fair one, to your breast,
Soothe the fluttering thing to rest;
Let the gentle, spotless toy,
Be your sweetest, greatest joy;
Every night when wrapp'd in sleep,
Next your heart the conquest keep.
Or if dreams your fancy move,
Hear it whisper me and love;
Then in pity to the swain,
Who must heartless else remain,
Soft as gentle dewy show'rs,
Slow descend on April flow'rs;
Soft as gentle riv'lets glide,
Steal unnoticed to my side;
If the gem you have to spare,
Take your own and place it there.
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