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LADY HYDE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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LADY HYDE

Sitting at Sir Godfrey Kneller's for her Picture.

While Kneller, with inimitable Art,
Attempts that Face whose Print's on every Heart,
The Poet, with a Pencil less confin'd,
Shall paint her Virtues, and describe her Mind,
Unlock the Shrine, and to the Sight unfold
The secret Gems, and all the inward Gold.
Two only Patterns do the Muses name,
Of perfect Beauty, but of guilty Fame;

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A Venus, and a Helen have been seen,
Both perjur'd Wives, the Goddess and the Queen:
In this the Third, are reconcil'd at last
Those jarring Attributes of Fair and Chaste,
With Graces that attract, but not ensnare,
Divinely good, as she's divinely fair;
With beauty, not affected, vain, nor proud;
With Greatness, easy, affable, and good:
Others by guilty Artifice, and Arts
Of promis'd Kindness, practise on our Hearts,
With Expectation blow the Passion up;
She fans the Fire, without one Gale of Hope,
Like the chaste Moon, she shines to all Mankind,
But to Endymion is her Love confin'd.
What cruel Destiny on Beauty waits,
When on one Face depend so many Fates!
Oblig'd by Honour to relieve but one,
Unhappy Men by Thousands are undone.