 | The Genuine Works in Verse and Prose, Of the Right Honourable George Granville, Lord Lansdowne |  |
TO THE COUNTESS of NEWBOURG,
Insisting earnestly to be told who I meant by MIRA.
With Mira's Charms, and my extreme Despair,
Long had my Muse amaz'd the Reader's Ear,
My Friends, with Pity, heard the mournful Sound,
And all enquir'd from whence the fatal Wound;
Th'astonish'd World beheld an endless Flame,
Ne'er to be quench'd, unknowing whence it came:
So scatter'd Fire from scorch'd Vesuvius flies,
Unknown the Source from whence those Flames arise:
Ægyptian Nile so spreads its Waters round,
O'erflowing far and near, its Head unfound.
Long had my Muse amaz'd the Reader's Ear,
My Friends, with Pity, heard the mournful Sound,
And all enquir'd from whence the fatal Wound;
Th'astonish'd World beheld an endless Flame,
Ne'er to be quench'd, unknowing whence it came:
So scatter'd Fire from scorch'd Vesuvius flies,
Unknown the Source from whence those Flames arise:
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O'erflowing far and near, its Head unfound.
Mira herself, touch'd with the moving Song,
Would needs be told to whom those Plaints belong;
My timorous Tongue not daring to confess,
Trembling to name, would fain have had her guess;
Impatient of Excuse, she urges still,
Persists in her Demand, she must, she will;
If silent, I am threaten'd with her Hate;
If I obey—Ah! what may be my Fate?
Uncertain to conceal, or to unfold,
She smiles—the Goddess smiles—and I grow bold.
Would needs be told to whom those Plaints belong;
My timorous Tongue not daring to confess,
Trembling to name, would fain have had her guess;
Impatient of Excuse, she urges still,
Persists in her Demand, she must, she will;
If silent, I am threaten'd with her Hate;
If I obey—Ah! what may be my Fate?
Uncertain to conceal, or to unfold,
She smiles—the Goddess smiles—and I grow bold.
My Vows to Mira, all were meant to thee,
The Praise, the Love, the matchless Constancy.
'Twas thus of old, when all th'immortal Dames
Were grac'd by Poets, each with several Names;
For Venus, Cytherea was invok'd;
Altars for Pallas, to Tritonia smok'd.
Such Names were theirs; and thou the most divine,
Most lov'd of heav'nly Beauties—Mira's thine.
The Praise, the Love, the matchless Constancy.
'Twas thus of old, when all th'immortal Dames
Were grac'd by Poets, each with several Names;
For Venus, Cytherea was invok'd;
Altars for Pallas, to Tritonia smok'd.
Such Names were theirs; and thou the most divine,
Most lov'd of heav'nly Beauties—Mira's thine.
| The Genuine Works in Verse and Prose, Of the Right Honourable George Granville, Lord Lansdowne | |