The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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To Lady W---,
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
To Lady W---,
on seeing her in the Park, after her Recovery from a long Illness.
Pleas'd, at your wish'd return, to chear the shade,
For your long life, a pensive neighbour pray'd;
Shock'd, and disgusted, at the modern fair,
Vacant of thought, and turbulent of air;
He hail'd your health, restor'd, who live, to prove,
How, women, once, compell'd the wise, to love.
How unaffected case, in motion, charms!
How knowledge holds the heart, that sweetness warms!
How thinking Spirit quickens every grace,
Till the soul lightens, thro' the meaning face!
For your long life, a pensive neighbour pray'd;
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Vacant of thought, and turbulent of air;
He hail'd your health, restor'd, who live, to prove,
How, women, once, compell'd the wise, to love.
How unaffected case, in motion, charms!
How knowledge holds the heart, that sweetness warms!
How thinking Spirit quickens every grace,
Till the soul lightens, thro' the meaning face!
Griev'd, to observe, what, now, the sex employs,
Whose wit is laughter, and whose converse noise:
Who loudly ignorant, and coarsely light,
Repel men's reason, and offend their sight;
Make youth distasteful, dignity despis'd,
And every claim of beauty pass unpriz'd:
Charm'd, he beheld, once more, your air sublime,
In all, but wisdom, still unchang'd by time:
Patterns, like you, may teach the faithless eye,
What, in your absence, wou'd be judg'd a lye;
Shou'd it be told these quenchers of Love's fire,
That woman, once, was soft, and mov'd desire;
By modest tenderness, compell'd respect,
And, arm'd with Influence, never fear'd neglect:
That friend, and lover both, she cou'd impart
Peace to the mind, and passion to the heart,
'Twou'd, now, be thought a dream—but that, in you,
They see such proof, that they must own, 'tis true.
Live, then, a lengthening age of painless hours,
Your Sex's envy—and the wish of ours.
Whose wit is laughter, and whose converse noise:
Who loudly ignorant, and coarsely light,
Repel men's reason, and offend their sight;
Make youth distasteful, dignity despis'd,
And every claim of beauty pass unpriz'd:
Charm'd, he beheld, once more, your air sublime,
In all, but wisdom, still unchang'd by time:
Patterns, like you, may teach the faithless eye,
What, in your absence, wou'd be judg'd a lye;
Shou'd it be told these quenchers of Love's fire,
That woman, once, was soft, and mov'd desire;
By modest tenderness, compell'd respect,
And, arm'd with Influence, never fear'd neglect:
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Peace to the mind, and passion to the heart,
'Twou'd, now, be thought a dream—but that, in you,
They see such proof, that they must own, 'tis true.
Live, then, a lengthening age of painless hours,
Your Sex's envy—and the wish of ours.
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |