Says, "Sweet Penelope! thy fteps are free "To guide thy father, or to follow me." The fire, with Queftion's agitated air,
Looks up for the decifion of the fair:
She could not speak, but, ftill to Nature true,'
O'er her flufh'd cheek her decent veil the drew.L
The husband and the fire, who heard her figh, Lony.T Both understood her exquifite reply;
And the proud father felt his pangs beguil'd
By the fweet graces of his modeft child.
He blefs'd and bade her go: but on the spot, ibnia
Often revifited, and ne'er forgot.
His fondness rais'd, with a regret ferene,
A fair memorial of that tender fcene
A graceful ftatue of a female frame,
Sacred to love, and Modesty its name;
In which kind Sculpture, by her speaking power,
Express'd the feelings of that parting hour
Enchanting Art! fuch ever be thy tone
As graceful Nature may be proud to own!
No forms of elegance Fame ranks above
Thy groups of filial and parental love:
Witness ye brothers of Sicilian name,
Who pass'd through Ætna's defolating flame,
Each, nobly loaded with a parent's weight,
Spar'd by receding fire, rever'd by Fate!
The brass has perish'd, whose expressive charm
Difplay'd your virtues in the dread alarm;
Yet in a Roman poet's faithful lines
The perish'd brass with new exiftence fhines-
In Claudian's verse I see your bofoms thrill,
And with a graceful terror tremble still* !
O lovely Sculpture! when, to thee unjust,
Ravage condemns thy offspring to the duft,
Though form'd with power and merit to endure
Through many a peaceful age of praise secure,
May Muses, confcious of thy gen'rous aim,
Still of thy ruin'd works the worth proclaim;
And to a new and firmer life reftore
Thy moulder'd marble, or thy vanish'd ore!
Sculpture! to Heav'n-taught Poefy allied
By dignity of foul and decent pride,
By talents true to Glory's guiding fires,
That scorn to minister to mean defires!
Dear Arts ! to whom in high degrees belong
Sifterly charms, by fweet alliance ftrong!
May I afpire, of each devoutly fond,
Of that alliance to confirm the bond,
While both I honour in my ftudious hour,
As Friendship dictates the prefiding power,
Who, when I incenfe on your altars throw,
Guides my just hand, and gives my heart to glow! 360
Ingenuous Sculpture! in thy long career
Of various fortune in thy Pagan sphere,
Thou art intitled to the nobleft praise,
For adding force to worth's reflected rays!
'Twas thine to give, in that dark world of ftrife,
Ardour to virtue, elegance to life!
If Fortune, to thy pureft purpose blind,
Lavish'd thy honours on the worthless mind,
Indignant Freedom, in some distant day,
Would rife to vindicate thy moral fway.
When her Timoleon with a guardian sword
To injur❜d Sicily her rights reftor'd,
Statues were tried, and all of public note
Or fell or flourish'd by the people's vote.
Alas! how few in regal rank are found
Endear'd to Nature, as by Merit crown'd!
That polish'd ifle her Gelon deem'd alone
Worthy to live in monumental ftone*.
There is no art to man by Heaven convey'd
Which man's rash folly dares not to degrade;
And thou canft reckon, in thy numerous race,
Sculptors whom skill serv'd only to disgrace :
Pygmalion, burning with a vain defire,
The dupe of Vanity's delirious fire * !
The base Perillus, Cruelty's high-priest,
Condemn'd to bellow in his brazen beaft + ;
And a coarse artift from the Roman school,
Of vile obscenity the venal tool ‡ !
But should affembled Arts their fons produce,
And all be tried for Talent's moral ufe,
Perchance, the foremost, tribe in Honour's crowd,
The fons of Sculpture might be justly proud
That, mark'd collectively in Fame's review,
Their merit's infinite, their faults are few.
O that, redeem'd from dark Oblivion's fpoils,
That rich memorial of their noblest toils
Which juft Pafiteles, of gen'rous heart,
Fram'd on the higher works of happiest Art,
Might to our diftant eyes, with luftre new,
Of ancient genius give a wider view |.
* See NOTE XVIII.
↑ See NOTE XX.
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