INSCRIPTIONS.
EACH WRITTEN ON A CARD INCLOSED IN A LETTER-CASE,
NETTED BY THE AUTHOR,
AND PRESENTED TO HER FRIENDS.
TO MRS WINGFIELD OF SHREWSBURY.
OCTOBER 1794.
Since each soft virtue of domestic life,
Of tender parent, and of faithful wife,
Kind sister, duteous daughter, friend sincere,
Found in thy bosom a congenial sphere,
Whence all their purest emanations flow'd,
With pity melted, with affection glow'd,
So may each paper, which shall slumber here,
Thro' many a vexing, many a waning year,
Speak of thy weal, and speak of their's whose doom
Thy future days must darken, or illume.
TO MISS WINGFIELD OF SHREWSBURY.
OCTOBER 1794.
Oft, when thy hands shall slip this rosy string,
Her may its nets to thy remembrance bring,
Who, as she wove them, still invok'd for thee
A fate from care, regret, and anguish free;
Each night, that health and peace may seal thine eyes,
Each morning prove a harbinger of joys,
That life, which must pass on, may glide, the while,
Mild as thy glance and cheering as thy smile!
TO MISS CATHERINE WINGFIELD.
OCTOBER 1794.
O may this silken prison long contain
Love's tender vows, and Friendship's cordial strain!
Yet ne'er for thee, may sorrow's darken'd hours
Require, lov'd maid, their sympathetic powers;
Still may indulgent Heaven, with guardian care,
Ordain thee happy, as it form'd thee fair!
TO MISS REMMINGTON, OF LICHFIELD.
JANUARY 1795.
Ne'er, sweet Maria, may this net enfold
The lines of faithless love, or friend grown cold,
But those blest Talismans, whose spells can smooth
Life's thorny path, and all its sorrows sooth!
Yet may thy ruling star so kindly glow
That few the thorns, and vanishing the woe!
TO MISS FERN OF LICHFIELD.
APRIL 1795.
If e'er, Eliza, grief awakes thy sigh,
Pales that red lip, or dims that lucid eye,
O may this gay envelop then contain,
From hands belov'd, the lenitives of pain;
Yet seldom may thy fair and prosperous fate
Demand the pensive sympathetic trait,
But Friendship, tender, fervent, and sincere,
Breathe the glad strains of gratulation here!
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
LADY ELEANOR BUTLER,
WITH THE SAME PRESENT.
Thou, who with firm, free step, as life arose,
Led thy loved friend where sacred Deva flows,
On Wisdom's cloudless sun with thee to gaze,
And build your eyrie on that rocky maze;
Ah, Eleanora! wilt thou gently deign
To bid these nets the tribute lines contain,
When Virtue, Genius, Rank, and Wealth, combine,
To pay ow'd homage at so pure a shrine?
And O! when kindling with the lovely theme,
The blest reality of Hope's fond dream,
Friendship, that bliss unshar'd disdains to know,
Nor sees, nor feels one unpartaken woe;
When for such worth, in each exalted mind,
Resolv'd as man, and more than woman kind,
Their warm admirers ask a length of years,
Unchill'd by terror, and unstain'd by tears,
Then may the fervent benedictions lie!
And long, long hence meet Eleanora's eye,
While with her Zara's it shall frequent rove
The treasur'd records of esteem, and love!
TO MISS PONSONBY.
Seek, roseate net, inchanting Zara's hand,
And, tho' unworthy, say thy fold aspires
To guard the gentle scriptures, where expand
Deserved attachment's tributary fires!
Say, that in no charm'd spirit livelier dwells,
Than hers who wove thee, each ingenuous trace
Of the fair story this retirement tells,
The minds that sought it, and the forms that grace;
Davidean friendship,
emulation warm,
Coy blossoms, perishing in courtly air,
Its vain parade, restraint, and irksome form,
Cold as the ice, tho' with the comet's glare.
By firmness won, by constancy secured,
Ye nobler pleasures, be ye long their meed,
Theirs, who, each meteor vanity abjured,
The life of Angels in an Eden lead.
