The gentle maid, whose hapless taleThese melancholy pages speak;page 5 / 168Say, gracious lady, shall she failTo draw the tear adown thy cheek?No; never was thy pitying breastInsensible to human woes;Tender, tho' firm, it melts distrestFor weaknesses it never knows.Oh! guard the marvels I relateOf fell ambition scourg'd by fate,From reason's peevish blame.Blest with thy smile, my dauntless sailI dare expand to Fancy's gale,For sure thy smiles are Fame