To Miss Logan, With Beatties Poems, For
1787
to miss logan, with beattie's poems, for a new-year's gift, jan. 1, 1787.
again the silent wheels of time
their annual round have driven,
and you, tho' scarce in maiden prime,
are so much nearer heaven.
no gifts have i from indian coasts
the infant year to hail;
i send you more than india boasts,
in edwin's simple tale.
our sex with guile, and faithless love,
is charg'd, perhaps too true;
but may, dear maid, each lover prove
an edwin still to you.
to miss logan, with beattie's poems, for a new-year's gift, jan. 1, 1787.
again the silent wheels of time
their annual round have driven,
and you, tho' scarce in maiden prime,
are so much nearer heaven.
no gifts have i from indian coasts
the infant year to hail;
i send you more than india boasts,
in edwin's simple tale.
our sex with guile, and faithless love,
is charg'd, perhaps too true;
but may, dear maid, each lover prove
an edwin still to you.