To a Young Lady

SWEET stream, that winds through yonder glade,

Apt emblem of a virtuous maid --

Silent and chaste she steals along,

Far from the world's gay busy throng:

With gentle yet prevailing force,

Intent upon her destined course;

Graceful and useful all she does,

Blessing and blest where'er she goes;

Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,

And Heaven reflected in her face.

William Cowper