Constantia

Sick of the world, in prime of days
Constantia took a serious fit--
Resolved to shun all balls and plays
And only read what saints had writ--
To Convent Hall she would repair
And be a pensive sister there.

"What are they all--this glare of things,
These insects that around me shine;
These beaux and belles on silken wings--
Indeed their pleasures make not mine--
My happiness is all delayed--
I'll go, and find it in the shade."

A sailor, loitering from his crew,
As chance would have it, passed along--
She told him what she had in view,
And he replied--"Fair maid you're wrong,
"Let faded nymphs to cloisters go,
"Where kisses freeze and love is snow.

"The druids' oak and hermits' pine
"Afford a gloomy, sad delight;
"But why that blush of health resign,
"The mingled tint of red and white?
"In moistening cells the flowers expire
"That, on the plain, all eyes admire.

"With such a pensive, pious train
"Who, but a hermit, could agree--
"Ah, rather stay to grace the plain,
"Or wander on the wave with me:
"For you the painted barque shall wait
"And I would die for such a freight."

"No wandering stranger (she replied)
"Can tempt me to forego my plan;
"No barque that wafts him o'er the tide,
"Nor many a better looking man:
"Go, wanderer, plough your gloomy sea,
"Constantia must a sister be.

"To gain so fair a flower as you,
"(The Tar returned) who would not plead?
"Nor shall you, nymph, to convents go
"While love can write what you must read:
"Come, to yon' meadow let us stray,
"I have some handsome things to say."

"Love has its wish when reason fails--
"In vain he sighed, in vain he strove:
"Forsake (said she) those swelling sails
"If you would have me--think of love:
"Great merit has your sailing art,
"But absence would distract my heart."

What else was said, we secret keep;--
The Tar, grown fonder of the shore,
Neglects his prospects on the deep,
And she of convents talks no more:--
He slyly quits the coasting trade
She pities her--who seeks the shade.