Tho' now her glories matchless rise,
The cynofure of distant skies——
By modern pens, and bards of old,
In copious ftrain we are loudly told,
Of PALLAS, and the wife of Jove,
Of HEBE, and the queen of love,
Of PROSERPINE, who PLUTO charm'd,
And her, whose quarrel nations arm'd;
Of paintings too, one finifh'd piece
Comprising all the toafts of GREECE!
Fond tales of wonders well devis'd;
But, tho' we mourn our absent fair,
In FANNY all are realiz’d,*
And bloom in just assemblage there.
Say, can the spangling dews supply
Refractive brightnefs, like her eye?
Or can the morning's radiance speak
The modeft sweetness of her cheek?
And, could confummate genius find
Tints to express embodied mind,
Her features, perfon, mien, are fuch!
O! what Promethean art could touch!
If excellence conciliates fame,
Fair CROSBIE, too, bears lawful claim :
Regard her well: but, O beware!
A swarm of cupids ambush there! ^
Sweet BIDDY's cherub-fmiling form*
The most infenfible would warm:
Such loveliness, we well conceive,
In EDEN'S bowers attended EVE;
Such innocence, fuch winning grace.
Ere art dar'd nature's works deface;
With every virtue in her breast,
In heaven's effential colours drefs'd.
Here too, but painting falls beneath
The foul confpicuous in WESTMEATH.*
The mufe might numbers more rehearse,
Fit fubjects for immortal verfe:
But, loft in wonder, love, and praife,
She finds they far exceed her lays—————
Where beauty, thus, and fenfe unite,
What richer gifts can heaven bestow?
This charms the foul, that glads the fight,
Whence all our deareft bleffings flow:
Each aiding each, their luftres shine,
Refiftlefs, permanent, divine-→→→
Thus, female minds, with knowlege fraught,
Are just and liberal notions taught;
Through wisdom's glafs their foibles view'd,
Stand felf-convicted and fubdu❜d:
No more caprice their conduct rules;
No more the prey of rakes, and fools;
Their fouls, with truth and honour charm'd,
Are, thus, 'gainst all seductions arm'd:
Nor need they dread the pedants sneer,
Who by the card of reason fteer.
Through ignorance, alone, and pride,
The fair are learning's aid denied;
And merely bred to taste or know,
The glare of drefs, and farce of show.
What wonder, then, in folly train'd,
Through life the impreffion is retain'd?
And if, as fure, they want not powers,
Whate'er their faults, the crime is ours.
But here, for here at leaft, you must
Admit their claim; my Thefis juft ;
And, hence, this fair conclufion draw,
MINERVA Owns no Salic law.
Mifs J. P. Trench, Mifs Ann Trench, and Mifs Nugent,
WHO DECLARED THEMSELVES DYING, FROM THE FATIGUE OF A BALL, AND INSISTED UPON SOME
VERSES TO THEIR MEMORY.
FOR mercy's fake, ladies!—how can you impose
A task of this nature on me ?
'Tis clear paft a doubt, and what every one knows, I hold not the Mufes in fee,
I have courted them fometimes, 'tis true, but in vain,
They ne'er would indulge my request;
They mock'd my addreffes, derided my pain,
And turn'd all my prayers to a jest.
The subject too, truly! fuppofing you dead
An elegy I muft indite!
The town would all fwear, I was turn'd in my head;
The town, at least, once would be right.
But grant me difpos'd with your wish to agree,
I deal not in fiction nor art;
How then could I furnish description for three,
Where each is fupreme in defert ?
Of goddeffes, graces, and many fuch more
Trite fancies 'twere easy to speak;
And rofes, and lilies, and dimples good store,
And Cupid's bedecking each cheek.
The fex, tho' I ftripp'd, as moft fonneteers do,
And all in your perfons combin'd,
Tho' I, and fome others, might feel it full true,
Yet you would continue ftill blind.
Admit now fweet NANCY's perfections I fung,
What more could for FANNY be writ?
And, JENNY! thy praises muft die on my tongue,
Unless I could borrow thy wit.
'Mongst brothers and beauties, affection is rare,
All ages and nations atteft;
But concord and friendship, this let me declare,
Here mutually glow in each breaft.
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