On Receiving from a Lady a Present of a Ring

A ring to me Cecilia sends--
And what to show?--that we are friends;
That she with favour reads my lays,
And sends a token of her praise:
Such as the nun, with heart of snow,
Might on her confessor bestow;
Or which some favourite nymph would pay,
Upon her grandsire's natal day,
And to his trembling hand impart
The offering of a feeling heart.
And what shall I return the fair
And flattering nymph?--A verse?--a prayer?
For, were a Ring my present too,
I see the smile that must ensue--
The smile that pleases, though it stings,
And says--"No more of giving rings:
Remember, thirty years are gone,
Old friend, since you presented one!"
Well! one there is, or one shall be,
To give a ring instead of me;
And with it sacred vows for life
To love the fair--the angel-wife.
In that one act may every grace,
And every blessing have their place--
And give to future hours the bliss,
The charm of life, derived from this;
And--when even love no more supplies;
When weary nature sinks to rest--
May brighter, steadier light arise,
And make the parting moment blest!