WHEN  strikes the trembling Strings,
Applauding  round her fly;
Exulting clap their little Wings
Bask'd in the Sun-shine of her Eye.
The Graces too,
As others do,
In Raptures stand to hear,
Time stays his flagging Wings, and adds,
One Hour to the rolling Year:
Keep off, ye Beaus,
For who but knows
That  Eyes can wound?
If those you miss — yet pray avoid
The Danger of enchanting Sound.