Sonnet I. (Translated From Milton)

Fair Lady, whose harmonious name the Rheno
  Through all his grassy vale delights to hear,
  Base were, indeed, the wretch, who could forbear
  To love a spirit elegant as thine,
That manifests a sweetness all divine,
  Nor knows a thousand winning acts to spare,
  And graces, which Love's bow and arrows are,
  Temp'ring thy virtues to a softer shine.
When gracefully thou speak'st, or singest gay
  Such strains as might the senseless forest move,
  Ah then--turn each his eyes and ears away,
Who feels himself unworthy of thy love!
  Grace can alone preserve him, e'er the dart
  Of fond desire yet reach his inmost heart.