Scarce have my foot-steps prefs'd the favour'd ground,
When founds etherial ftrike my ear;
At once celeftial forms appear;
My fugitives are found!

The Mufes here attune their lyres,

Ah partial! with unwonted fires;

Here, hand in hand, with careless mien,
The sportive Graces trip the green.

But whilst I wander'd o'er a scene so fair,
Too well at one survey I trace,

How every Muse, and every Grace,
Had long employ'd their care.

Lurks not a stone enrich'd with lively stain,
Blooms not a flower amid the vernal store,
Falls not a plume on India's distant plain,
Glows not a fhell on Adria's rocky shore,
But, torn methought from native lands or seas,
From their arrangement, gain freth power to please.
And fome had bent the wildering maze,
Bedeckt with every fhrub that blows;
And fome entwin'd the willing sprays,
To fhield th' illuftrious dame's repofe :
Others had grac'd the fprightly dome,
And taught the portrait where to glow;
Others arrang'd the curious tome;
Or, 'mid the decorated space,

Affign'd the laurel'd buft a place,

And given to learning all the pomp of fhow.

And

And now from every task withdrawn,
They met and frisk'd it o'er the lawn.
Ah! woe is me, faid I;

And ***

**'s hilly circuit heard my cry,
Have I for this, with labour ftrove,
And lavish'd all my little ftoré.
To fence for you my shady grove,
And fcollop every winding fhore;

And fringe with every purple rose,
The fapphire ftream that down my valley flows?

Ah! lovely treacherous maids!

To quit unfeen my votive fhades,

When pale disease, and torturing pain,

Had torn me from the breezy plain,
And to a reftlefs couch confin'd,
Who ne'er your wonted tafks declin'd.
She needs not your officious aid

To fwell the fong, or plan the fhade;
By genuine fancy fir'd,

Her native genius guides her hand,
And while the marks the fage command,
More lovely fcenes her skill shall raise,

Her lyre refound with nobler lays
Than ever you infpir'd.

Thus I may rage and grief difplay;
But vainly blame, and vainly mourn,
Nor will a Grace or Mufe return

Till Luxborough lead the way.

Το

To a LADY, with fome coloured Patterns of Flowers, October 7, 1736.

MADAM!

THOUGH rude the draughts, though artless seem

the lines,

From one unskill'd in verfe, or in designs;
Oft has good-nature been the fool's defence,
And honeft meaning gilded want of fenfe.

Fear not, though flowers and beauty grace my lay, To praise one fair, another fhall decay.

No lily, bright with painted foliage, here,
Shall only languish, when Selinda's near:
A Fate revers'd no fmiling rofe fhall know,
Nor with reflected luftre doubly glow.
Praises which languish when apply'd to you,
Where flattering schemes feem obviously true,

Yet fure your fex is near to flowers ally'd,
Alike in foftnefs, and alike in pride :
Foes to retreat, and ever fond to shine,
Both rush to danger, and the fhades decline;
Expos'd, the fhort-liv'd pageants of a day,
To painted flies or glittering fops a prey :
Chang'd with each wind, nor one short day the fame,
Each clouded sky affects their tender frame.
In glaring Chloe's man-like taste and mien,
Are the grofs fplendors of the Tulip seen :
Distant they strike, inelegantly gay,

To the near view no pleafing charms display.

Το

To form the nymph, a vulgar wit must join,
As coarfer foils will moft the flower refine.
Ophelia's beauties let the Jasmine paint,
Too faintly foft, too nicely elegant.
Around with feeming fanctity endued,
The Paffion-flower may beft exprefs the Prude.
Like the gay Rofe, too rigid Silvia shines,
While, like its guardian thorn, her virtue joins-
Happy the nymph from all their failures free,
Happy the nymph! in whom their charms agree.
Faint thefe productions, till you bid difclofe,
The Pink new fplendors, and fresh tints the Rofe:
And yet condemn not trivial draughts like thefe,
Form'd to improve, and make ev'n trifles please.
A power like yours minuter beauties warms,
And yet can blast the most afpiring charms :
Thus, at the rays whence other objects shine,
The taper fickens, and its flames decline.
When by your art the purple Violet lives,
And the pale Lily fprightlier charms receives:
Garters to me fhall glow inferior far,
And with lefs pleafing luftre fhine the star.

Let ferious triflers, fond of wealth or fame,
On toils like thefe beftow too foft a name;
Each gentler art with wife indifference view,
And fcorn one trifle, millions to pursue:
More artful I, their fpecious schemes deride,
Fond to please you, by you in these employ'd;
A nobler task, or more fublime defire,
Ambition ne'er could form, nor pride inspire:

The

The sweets of tranquil life and rural ease
Amufe fecurely, nor lefs juftly please.
Where gentle pleasure fhews her milder power,
Or blooms in fruit, or sparkles in the flower;
Smiles in the groves, the raptur'd poet's theme;
Flows in the brook, his Naiad of the stream;
Dawns, with each happier ftroke the pencil gives,
And, in each livelier image, fmiling lives;

Is heard, when Silvia ftrikes the warbling ftrings,
Selinda speaks, or Philomela fings:
Breathes with the morn; attends, propitious maid,
The evening ramble, and the noon-day glade;
Some vifionary fair fhe cheats our view,
Then only vigorous, when the 's feen like you.
Yet nature fome for fprightlier joys defign'd,
For brighter fcenes, with nicer care, refin'd.
When the gay jewel radiant ftreams fupplies,
And vivid brilliants meet your brighter eyes;
When drefs and pomp around the fancy play,
By fortune's dazzling beauties borne away:
When theatres for you the fcenes forego,
And the box bows, obfequiously low:

How dull the plan which indolence has drawn,
The mofy grotto, or the flowery lawn !
Though rofeate fcents in every wind exhale,
And fylvan warblers charm in every gale.

Of thefe be her's the choice, whom all approve;
And whom, but those who envy, all must love:
By nature modei'd, by experience taught,

To know and pity every female fault :