My Cupid's absence saw another bloom,
Scene reviews of praise, richly gathered.
Defer your attribute with golden plume,
And dearest phrase is by all wit shatter'd.
I think nice aims while his aim reassures,
And like untutored youths we pipe Amen!
To ev'ry hymn. The ardor needs be yours
In shiny form of fine discriminating pen.
Hearing you praised, I say it is very true,
To your praise I would add much more:
But do so in my head, as thou loves you,
Such it is, final, for he holds rank before.
Then others for sake of words give relief,
My silent thoughts do still speak to grief.