University of Virginia Library

Could I like you, my Pencil use;
Or have command of such a Muse;
All other Artists I'd out-do,
By coming somthing near to you.
But as poor Dreamers oft conceit,
Were they in fortune rich and great,
They'd live, and spend at such a rate.
So had I your Estate in Wit,
Like you, methinks, I'd manage it.
Pallas (that charming Goddess) she
Should serve instead of Muse, to me.
Inthron'd she should Queen Regent sit,
And better rule my frothy wit.
As pow'rful Cynthia both guides
Th' unruly Sea, and all her Tides.

Your drops of Ink, like those i'th' Spring
Both Violets, Roses, Lillies, bring.
Your Fruit-trees equal Wonders shew;
Both bear at once and blossom too;
The Spring and Autumn's both in you.
Your planted Vines, i'th' infant Stems,
Seem to bud forth their blushing Gems.
Apelle's self would be mista'en;
Both Birds and He could not refrain.
When you, with Grass, cloath fancy'd fields,
They feed those Flocks your Pencil yields,
And what does greater Wonders show,
Your Ink's the Milk that makes 'em grow.
When you draw Birds we wond'ring stand,
And swear they fly from out your hand.
Here Tyanæus Art is gain'd;
And we their Voices understand.
When you a pleasant River limm,
Your Ink's the Stream where Fishes swim.
Nature's Defects you here recruit,
And Proverbs cross, they are not mute.
Your imitating Pencil can
First form, and then put Life in Man.
Each Shadow, Rib-like, can relieve
Your new-made Adam with an Eve.
Your Art, more strong than that of Fate,
Can liveless things ev'n animate.
Your Trees Dodona's influence share,
And are, like them, Oracular.
Your very Shadows set out Light;
What is your Day, if such your Night?
Your Pindust is not vainly hurl'd;
Its very Attomes make a World.
You th' Hieroglyphic-Art revive;
In Egypt dead, in you alive.
Thence Learning took it's happy flight:
So from the East first shot the Light.
What Admiration's then your due?
How much is Art it self oblig'd to you?
Since Madam you can make a World and it inlighten too.