Corinna is divinely fair,
Easy her shape and soft her air;
Of hearts she had the absolute sway
Before she threw her own away.
The pow'r now languishes by which she charm'd,
Her beauty sullied and her eyes disarm'd.

Like Nature she is apt to waste
Her treasure where 'tis valu'd least;
So peasants surfeit where it grows
On fruit the eastern sun bestows,
But all the delicacy fades before
It can through oceans reach our distant shore.