To Louisa - (On whose Easel I Found a Beautiful Painting of Cupid sleeping)

I.
How! Love , thus wrapt in soft repose;
Ah! whence didst thou thy model borrow,
Or Love, with waking transport glows,
Or restless weeps, a waking sorrow?

II.
Perhaps thou'st borrow'd from thyself,
For in thine heart , they say, Love sleeps;
While in thine eye some swear the elf
An everlasting vigil keeps.

III.
Oh! where, my charming artist , lies
The mystic secret of thy art?
To keep Love waking in the eyes
And guard him sleeping in the heart!