The Rural Beauty, A Village Ode

Lift the window, lift it high--
Who is she that's tripping by?
It is my little sprightly Sue,
With pouting lips and eye so blue,
Dimpled cheek and cloven chin,
Taper arms, and waist so thin,
O'er her neck her tresses strewn,
Curl'd by nature's hand alone.
It is my lovely shepherdess,
I know her by her simple dress;
Her raven skirt and sash of blue,
Her stockings white, and coal-black shoe;
Her milk-white gown, all pinn'd so fast,
It seems to love the waist it clasps.
Yes--'tis she--I know her by
Her jaunty beaver, o'er her eye,
While the nodding plume above;
Seems to beckon me to love.
Yes, I come, my tempting Sue,
See she smiles to meet me too.
Now my arms her waist entwine;
Now her hand is lock'd in mine;
Now we to the meadows stray:
Plod, dull care, thy own highway!
Now, eve's stillness soothes the ear,
See, the half-orb'd moon appears;
Now it mounts with majesty,
Skirts with light the fleecy sky.
Chequering all the sylvan scene;
In the rivulet breaks its beam.
By the mantling pool we rove;
Hear the cooings of the dove;
Hear, entrance'd upon the plain,
The sameness of the nighthawk's strain;
Now we scent the fragrant thyme,
Sweet-fern and the eglantine.
Then, I vow, her breath excels
All the fragrance that she smells.
Then, I point to Sue afar,
Planet red--and twinkling star.
Then we view the gemmy crowds,
Now gleam--now lost in flitting clouds.
Vow my Susan's eyes more bright;
Than yon fairest star of night;
Vow, that all their shining host
Fail to count the joys I boast;
Then, between each chasten'd kiss,
Tell the tale of future bliss,
When my Sue shall be my bride,
And grace my cottage fire-side.
Then I whisper wedlock joys;
Future groups of girls and boys;
--Girls and boys, as fair as Sue,
Honest, as their father too;
--How I feel her pulses beat--
She burns me with her blushing cheek.