John Shaw (1778–1809)

WHO has robb’d the ocean cave,

To tinge thy lips with coral hue?

Who from India’s distant wave,

For thee, those pearly treasures drew?

Who, from yonder orient sky,

Stole the morning of thine eye?

Thousand charms, thy form to deck,

From sea, and earth, and air are torn;

Roses bloom upon thy cheek,

On thy breath their fragrance borne.

Guard thy bosom from the day,

Lest thy snows should melt away.

But one charm remains behind,

Which mute earth can ne’er impart;

Nor in ocean wilt thou find,

Nor in the circling air a heart.

Fairest! wouldst thou perfect be,

Take, oh take that heart from me.