Him to diflike, whofe modest worth should please.—
Say, is your picture shown in tints like these?
Your's!-you deny it-Hear the point then tried,
Let judgment, truth, the Muse, and love decide.
What your's!-Nay, faireft trifler, frown not fo:
Is it? the Mufe with doubt-Love answers NO:
You smile-Is 't not? Again the question try!-
Yes, judgment thinks, and truth will YES, reply.
Raillied with wit polite, or lafh'd fevere: Let Pope prefent fuch objects to our view; Such are, my fair, the full reverse of you.
Rapt when, to Loddon's ftream from Windfor's
He fings the modeft charms of fylvan maids;
Dear Burford's hills in memory's eye appear,
And Luddal's fpring § ftill murmurs in my ear:
Alluding to the beautiful Episode of Loddona, in Windfor Foreft.
But when you ceafe to bless my longing eyes,
Dumb is the spring, the joylefs prospect dies :
Come then, my charmer, come! here transport reigns!
New health, new youth, infpirits all my veins.
Each hour let intercourfe of hearts employ,
Thou life of lovelinefs! thou foul of joy!
Love wakes the birds-oh, hear each melting lay! 15
Love warms the world-come charmer, come away!
But hark!-immortal Pope refumes the lyre!
Diviner airs, diviner flights, infpire:
Hark where an angel's language tunes the line!
See where the thoughts and looks of angels shine! 20
Here he pour'd all the mufic of your tongue,
And all your looks and thoughts, unconscious, fung.
RECOVERY OF A
LADY OF QUALITY
FROM THE SMALL-POX.
ONG a lov'd fair had blefs'd her confort's fight With amorous pride, and undisturb'd delight; Till Death, grown envious with repugnant aim, Frown'd at their joys, and urg'd a tyrant's claim.
He fummons each difeafe!-the noxious crew, 5
Writhing, in dire distortions, ftrike his view!
From various plagues, which various natures know,
Forth rushes beauty's fear'd and fervent foe.
Fierce to the fair, the miffile mifchief flies,
The fanguine ftreams in raging ferments rife !
It drives, ignipotent, through every vein,
Hangs on the heart, and burns around the brain!
Now a chill damp the charmer's luftre dims!
Sad o'er her eyes the livid languor fwims!
Her eyes, that with a glance could joy infpire,
Like fetting stars, fcarce fhoot a glimmering fire.
Here ftands her confort, fore, with anguish, preft,
Grief in his eye, and terror in his breast.
The Paphian Graces, fmit with anxious care,
In filent forrow weep the waining fair.
Eight funs, fucceffive, roll their fire away,
And eight flow nights fee their deep shades decay.
While thefe revolve, though mute each Mufe appears,
Each speaking eye drops eloquence in tears.
On the ninth noon, great Phoebus, liftening bends! 25
On the ninth noon, each voice in
prayer
Great God of light, of fong, and phyfic's art,
Reftore the languid fair, new foul impart !
Her beauty, wit, and virtue, claim thy care,
And thine own bounty 's almost rival'd there.
Each paus'd. The God affents. Would Death ad
Phœbus, unfeen, arrests the threatening lance!
Down from his orb a vivid influence ftreams,
And quickening earth imbibes falubrious beams;
Each balmy plant, encrease of virtue knows,
And art, inspir'd, with all her patron, glows.
The charmer's opening eye, kind hope, reveals,
Kind hope, her confort's breast enlivening feels.
Each grace revives, each Muse refumes the lyre,
Each beauty brightens with re-lumin'd fire.
As Health's aufpicious powers gay life difplay,
Death, fullen at the fight, ftalks flow away.
My lov'd Hill, O thou by heaven defign'd To charm, to mend, and to adorn mankind! To thee my hopes, fears, joys, and forrows tend, Thou brother, father, nearer yet! - thou friend! If worldly friendships oft cement, divide, As interefts vary, or as whims prefide; If leagues of luxury borrow friendship's light, Or leagues fubverfive of all focial right:
O fay, my Hill, in what propitious sphere,
Gain we the friend, pure, knowing, and fincere?
'Tis where the worthy and the wise retire;
There wealth may learn its ufe, may love infpire;
There may young worth, the nobleft end obtain,
In want may friends, in friends may knowledge gain;
In knowledge blifs; for wildom virtue finds,
And brightens mortal to immortal minds.
Kind then my wrongs, if love, like yours, fucceed!
For you, like virtue, are a friend indeed.
Oft when you faw my youth wild error know,
Reproof, foft-hinted, taught the blush to glow.
Young and unform'd, you first my genius rais'd,
Juft fmil'd when faulty, and when moderate prais'd.
Me fhun'd, me ruin'd, fuch a mother's rage!
You fung, till pity wept o'er every page.
You call'd my lays and wrongs to early fame;
Yet, yet, th' obudrate mother felt no fhame.
Pierc'd as I was! your counsel soften'd care,
To ease turn'd anguish, and to hope defpair.
The man who never wound afflictive feels,
He never felt the balmy worth that heals.
Welcome the wound, when bleft with fuch relief!
For deep is felt the friend, when felt in grief.
From you fhall never, but with life, remove
Afpiring genius, condefcending love.
When fome, with cold, fuperior looks, redress,
Relief feems infult, and confirms distress;
You, when you view the man with wrongs befieg'd,
While warm you act th' obliger, seem th' oblig'd.
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