Canft thou Love's brighteft lightning draw,
Which none e'er yet unwounded saw ?
To what then wilt thou next aspire,
Unless to imitate Jove's fire ?
Which is a lefs adventurous pride,
Though 'twas for that Salmoneus dy’d.
That beauteous, that victorious fair,
Whofe chains fo many lovers wear;
Who with a look can arts infuse,
Create a Painter, or a Mufe ;
Whom crouds with awful rapture view;
She fits ferene, and finiles on you!
Your genius thus infpir'd will foar
To wondrous heights unknown before,
And to her beauty you will own
Your future skill and fix'd renown.
So when of old great Ammon's fon,
Adorn'd with spoils in battle won,
In graceful picture chose to stand,
The work of fam'd Apelles' hand
"Exert thy fire, the monarch faid,
"Now be thy boldest strokes difplay'd,
"To let admiring nations fee
"Their dreaded victor drawn by thee;
"To others thou may'ft life impart,
"But I'll immortalize thy art!"
AS when Camilla once, a warlike dame,
In bloody battles won immortal fame,
For fook her female arts, and chose to bear
The ponderous fhield, and heave the massy fpear,
Superior to her fex: so swift she flew
Around the field, and fuch vaft numbers flew,
That friends and foes, alike furpriz'd, behold
The brave Virago defperately bold,
And thought her Pallas in a human mold.
Such is our wonder, matchlefs maid! to fee
The tragic laurel thus deferv'd by thee.
Still greater praise is yours; Camilla fhines
For ever bright in Virgil's facred lines,
Nor need you to another's bounty owe,
For what yourself can on yourself bestow;
So monarchs in full health are wont to rear,
At their own charge, their future fepulchre.
Who thy perfections fully would commend,
Muft think how others their vain hours mifpend, 20
In trifling vifits, pride, impertinence,
Drefs, dancing, and discourse devoid of sense;
To twirl a fan, to please fome foolish beau,
And sing an empty song, the most they know;
In body weak, more impotent of mind.
Thus fome have represented woman-kind.
But you, your fex's champion, are come forth
To fight their quarrel, and affert their worth;
Our Salick law of wit you have destroy'd,
Establish'd female claim, and triumph'd o'er our pride
While we look on, and with repining eyes
Behold you bearing off fo rich a prize,
Spite of ill-nature, we are forc'd t' approve
Such dazzling charms, and spite of envy love.
Nor is this all th' applause that is your due,
You ftand the first of stage-reformers too;
No vicious ftrains pollute your moral scene,
Chalte are your thoughts, and your expreffion clean;
Strains fuch as yours the strictest test will bear:
Sing boldly then, nor busy cenfure fear,
Your virgin voice offends no virgin ear.
Proceed, in tragic numbers to disclofe
Strange turns of fate, and unexpected woes.
Reward, and punish! awfully difpenfe
Heaven's judgments, and declare a Providence; 45
Nor let the comic Mufe your labours share,
'Tis meanness, after this, the fock to wear:
Though that too merit praise, 'tis nobler toil
T'extort a tear, than to provoke a smile.
What hand, that can design a history,
Would copy low-land boors at Snic-a-Snee?
Accept this tribute, madam, and excufe The hafty raptures of a ftranger Mufe.
'N Nature's golden age, when new-born day
Array'd the skies, and earth was green and gay When God, with pleasure, all his works furvey'd, And virgin innocence before him play'd; In that illuftrious morn, that lovely fpring, The Mufe, by Heaven infpir'd, began to fing. Defcending Angels, in harmonious lays, Taught the first happy pair their Maker's praise. Such was the facred art-We now deplore The Mufe's lofs, fince Eden is no more. When Vice from hell rear'd up its hydra-head, Th' affrighted maid, with chafte Aftræa, fled, And fought protection in her native sky;
In vain the heathen Nine her abfence would fupply.
Yet to fome few, whose dazzling virtues fhone 15
In ages paft, her heavenly charms were known.
Hence learn'd the bard, in lofty strains to tell
How patient Virtue triumph'd over hell;
And hence the chief, who led the chofen race
Through parting feas, deriv'd his fongs of praife: 20
She gave
the rapturous ode, whose ardent lay
Sings female force, and vanquish'd Sisera ;
She tun'd to pious notes the pfalmift's lyre,
And fill'd Ifaiah's breaft with more than Pindar's fire!
WRITTEN FOR THE LATE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER'S BIRTH-DAY.
WHILE Venus in her inowy arms
The God of battles held,
And footh'd him with her tender charms,
Victorious from the field;
By chance the caft a lovely fimile,
Propitious, down to earth,
And view'd in Britain's happy ifle
Great Gloucester's glorious birth.
Look, Mars, he faid; look down, and fee
A child of royal race!
Let's crown the bright Nativity
With every princely grace :
Thy heavenly image let me bear,
And fhine a Mars below;
From you his mind to warlike care,
I'll fofter gifts below.
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