...glance my tender breast invades, And robs my wounded soul of rest, As Tatars seize their destined prey. In vain with love our bosoms glow; Can all our tears,...roses blow, Where nature spreads her richest dyes, Kequire the borrowed gloss of art? Speak not of fate ; ah, change the theme, And talk of odours, talk...

...oasis of subject matter and vocabulary. The thenfashionable doctrine of deism was nowhere present: Speak not of fate : — ah ! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom : — 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream. To love and joy thy thoughts...