On a very young Lady

See how the buds and blossoms shoot:
How sweet will be the summer fruit!
Let us behold the infant rose;
How fragrant when its beauty blows!
The morning smiles, serenely gay:
How bright will be the promis'd day!
Contemplate next the charming maid,
In early innocence array'd!
If, in the morning of her years,
A lustre so intense appears,
When time shall point her noontide rays,
When her meridian charms shall blaze,
None but the eagle-ey'd must gaze.