Ask what prevailing, pleasing power

  Allures the sportive, wandering bee

To roam untired, from flower to flower,

  He'll tell you, 'tis variety.

Look Nature round; her features trace,

  Her seasons, all her changes see;

And own, upon Creation's face,

  The greatest charm's variety.

For me, ye gracious powers above!

  Still let me roam, unfixt and free;

In all things,—but the nymph I love

  I'll change, and taste variety.

But, Patty, not a world of charms

  Could e'er estrange my heart from thee;—

No, let me ever seek those arms.

  There still I'll find variety.