With fruitless pomp they deck the fenfelefs tombs, And waste profufely floods of vain perfumes.

THE ROSE-BUD:

To the Right Honourable the Lady JANE WHARTON.

Q

UEEN of fragrance, lovely Rose,
The beauties of thy leaves difclofe !
The winter's paft, the tempefts fly,
Soft gales breathe gently through the sky;
The lark fweet warbling on the wing
Salutes the gay return of spring:
The filver dews, the vernal fhowers,
Call forth a bloomy waste of flowers;
The joyous fields, the fhady woods,
Are cloath'd with green, or fwell with buds;
Then hafte thy beauties to difclofe,

Queen of fragrance, lovely Rofe !

Thou, beauteous flower, a welcome gueft,
Shalt flourish on the fair-one's breast,

Shalt grace her hand, or deck her hair,
The flower most sweet, the nymph most fair ;
Breathe foft, ye winds! be calm, ye fkies!
Arife ye flowery race, arife!

And

And hafte thy beauties to difclofe,

Queen of fragrance, lovely Rose!

But thou, fair nymph, thyfelf furvey In this sweet offspring of a day;

That miracle of face must fail,

Thy charms are fweet, but charms are frail :
Swift as the short-liv'd flower they fly,
At morn they bloom, at evening die :
Though fickness yet a while forbears,
Yet time destroys what fickness spares;
Now Helen lives alone in fame,
And Cleopatra's but a name;
Time must indent that heavenly brow,
And thou must be, what they are now.

This moral to the fair disclose,
Queen of fragrance, lovely Rofe.

BELINDA at the BATH.

WHIL

HILE in these fountains bright Belinda laves,
She adds new virtues to the healing waves;

Thus in Bethesda's pool an angel flood,
Bad the foft waters heal, and bleft the flood ;
But from her eye fuch bright deftruction flies,
In vain they flow! for her, the lover dies.

No more let Tagus boast, whose beds unfold
A fhining treasure of all-conquering gold!

No

*

No more the Po! whofe wandring waters ftray
In mazy errors, through the ftarry way;
Henceforth these fprings fuperior honours share,
There Venus laves, but my Belinda here.

LOVE is a noble rich repaft,

But feldom fhould the lover tafte;
When the kind fair no more restrains,
The glutton furfeits, and difdains.

To move the nymph, he tears bestows,
He vainly fighs, he falfely vows;
The tears deceive, the vows betray,
He conquers, and contemns the prey.

Thus Ammon's fon with fierce delight
Smil'd at the terrors of the fight;

The thoughts of conqueft charm'd his eyes,
He conquer'd, and he wept the prize.

Love, like a profpect, with delight
Sweetly deceives the diftant fight,
Where the tir'd travellers furvey,
O'er hanging rocks, a dangerous way.

-Eridanum cernes in parte locatum

cœli."

Ye

Tull. in Arateis.

"Gurgit Hereo fubterluit Oriona." Claud.

Ye fair that would victorious prove,

Seem but half kind, when moft you love;

Damon pursues if Cælia flies,

But when her love is born, his dies.

Had Danäe the young, the fair,
Been free, and unconfin'd as air;
Free from the guards and brazen tower,
She'd ne'er been worth a golden fhower.

To the Honourable Mrs. ELIZABETH TOWNSHEND, afterwards Lady CORNWALLIS, on her Picture, at Rainham.

περιέσσι γυναικών

Εἶδός τ' ἰδὲ φρένας.

Odyffey. Lib. 18.

AH! cruel hand, that could fuch power employ

To teach the pictur'd beauty to destroy!

Singly fhe charm'd before, but by his skill
The living beauty and her likeness kill!
Thus when in parts the broken mirrours fall,
A face in all is feen, and charms in all !

Think then, O faireft, of the fairer race, What fatal beauties arm thy heavenly face, Whofe very shadow can such flames inspire; We fee 'tis paint, and yet we feel 'tis fire.

See!

See! with falfe life the lovely image glows, And every wondrous grace transplanted shows; Fatally fair the new creation reigns,

Charms in her shape, and multiplies our pains; Hence the fond youth, that ease by absence found, Views the dear form, and bleeds at every wound; Thus the bright Venus, though to heaven she foar'd, Reign'd in her image, by the world ador'd.

O! wondrous power of mingled light and shades!
Where beauty with dumb eloquence perfuades,
Where paffions are beheld in picture wrought,
And animated colours look a thought:

Rare art! on whofe command all nature waits!
It copies all Omnipotence creates ;

Here crown'd with mountains earth expanded lies,
There the proud feas with all their billows rife;
If life be drawn, refponfive to the thought
The breathing figures live throughout the draught;
The mimic bird in fkies fictitious moves,

Or fancy'd beafts in imitated groves :

Ev'n heaven it climbs; and from the forming hands An angel here, and there a * Townshend ftands.

Yet, painter, yet, though art with nature strive, Though ev'n the lovely phantom seem alive, Submit thy vanquish'd art! and own the draught Though fair, defective, and a beauteous fault;