Deck thee with j**els from the Indian mine,
And fetch thy robes from silken Samarcand;
Such never shall thy beauteous eyes outshine,
Nor these outshame the lily of thy hand.
Take to thee gold; it shall not that outvie
Poured by thy locks in such a flowing stream;
Lay to thy bosom pearls; and could these sigh,
Then would they sigh that they might fairer seem.
But oh! ten thousand others can do this,
And charm for charm display as well as thou;
Can smile as sweet, and as divinely kiss,
And show as fair a hand, as smooth a brow;
Ten thousand others can do this, but none
Can move this heart to love, as thou hast done.