For the WEEKLY MUSEUM.
ACROSTIC, On Miss
M UCH I admire, thou loveliest of the fair,
A wake or sleep -- thou art my only care,
R ising or falling -- no beauty can I see,
(I can see none) except 'tis lovely thee,
A nd on thee rests my whole felicity.
M ust I admire again -- I must and will,
A nd think on thee whole charms so often kill.
R eturn the love which glows within my breast,
T ake pity on a heart, which knows no rest;
I can no longer brook thy lovely scorn,
N or can I live, and living, live forlorn.