Poems on Several Occasions With some Select Essays in Prose. In Two Volumes. By John Hughes; Adorn'd with Sculptures |
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ON A PEACOCK
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
ON A PEACOCK
Finely cut in Vellum by Molinda.
When Fancy did Molinda's Hand invite,
Without the help of Colour, Shade, or Light,
To form in Vellum, spotless as her Mind,
The fairest Image of the feather'd Kind,
Nature her self a strict Attendance paid,
Charm'd with th'Attainments of th'illustrious Maid,
Inspir'd her Thought, and, smiling, said, I'll see
How well this Fair One's Art can copy me.
Without the help of Colour, Shade, or Light,
To form in Vellum, spotless as her Mind,
The fairest Image of the feather'd Kind,
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Charm'd with th'Attainments of th'illustrious Maid,
Inspir'd her Thought, and, smiling, said, I'll see
How well this Fair One's Art can copy me.
So to her Fav'rite Titian once she came,
To guide his Pencil, and attest his Fame,
With Transport granting all that she cou'd give,
And bid his Works to wond'ring Ages live.
To guide his Pencil, and attest his Fame,
With Transport granting all that she cou'd give,
And bid his Works to wond'ring Ages live.
Not with less Transport here the Goddess sees
The curious Piece advance by slow Degrees;
At last such Skill in ev'ry Part was shown,
It seem'd a true Creation of her own;
She starts to view the finish'd Figure rise,
And spread his ample Train, enrich'd with Eyes;
To see, with lively Grace, his Form exprest,
The stately Honours of his rising Crest,
His comely Wings, and his soft silky Breast!
The Leaves of creeping Vines around him play,
And Nature's Leaves less perfect seem than they.
The curious Piece advance by slow Degrees;
At last such Skill in ev'ry Part was shown,
It seem'd a true Creation of her own;
She starts to view the finish'd Figure rise,
And spread his ample Train, enrich'd with Eyes;
To see, with lively Grace, his Form exprest,
The stately Honours of his rising Crest,
His comely Wings, and his soft silky Breast!
The Leaves of creeping Vines around him play,
And Nature's Leaves less perfect seem than they.
O matchless Bird! whose Race, with nicest Care,
Heav'n seems in Pleasure to have form'd so fair!
From whose gay Plumes e'en Phœbus with Delight,
Sees his own Rays reflected doubly bright!
Tho' num'rous Rivals of the Wing there be
That share our Praise, when not compar'd to Thee,
Soon as thy rising Glories strike our Eyes,
Their Beauty shines no more, their Lustre dies.
So when Molinda, with superior Charms,
Dazzles the Ring, and other Nymphs disarms,
To Her the rallying Loves and Graces fly,
And, fixing there, proclaim the Victory.
Heav'n seems in Pleasure to have form'd so fair!
From whose gay Plumes e'en Phœbus with Delight,
Sees his own Rays reflected doubly bright!
Tho' num'rous Rivals of the Wing there be
That share our Praise, when not compar'd to Thee,
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Their Beauty shines no more, their Lustre dies.
So when Molinda, with superior Charms,
Dazzles the Ring, and other Nymphs disarms,
To Her the rallying Loves and Graces fly,
And, fixing there, proclaim the Victory.
No wonder then, since she was born t'excell,
This Bird's fair Image she describes so well:
Happy, as in some Temple thus to stand,
Immortaliz'd by her successful Hand!
This Bird's fair Image she describes so well:
Happy, as in some Temple thus to stand,
Immortaliz'd by her successful Hand!
| Poems on Several Occasions | |