Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion,
Round the wealthy titled bride:
But when compar'd with real passion,
Poor is all that princely pride.
What are the showy treasures?
What are the noisy pleasures?
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art:
The polish'd jekel's blaze,
May draw the wond'ring gaze,
And courtly grandeur bright
The fancy may delight,
But never, never can come near the heart.

But, did you see my dearest Phillis
In simplicity's array,
Lovely as yon sweet opening flowers is,
Shrinking from the gaze of day:
O then the heart alarming,
And all resistless charming,
In love's delightful fetters
She chains the willing soul!
Ambition would disown
The world's imperial crown,
Ev'n av'rice would deny
His worshipp'd deity,
And feel thro'every vein love's raptures roll.