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.

by William Cowper