Poems | ||
168
VERSES,
OCCASIONED BY SEEING THE COUNTESS OF HERTFORD, IN TEARS AT THE MAGDALEN HOUSE.
Bright Charity, as stories say,
Met Britain's Genius t'other day;
Both look'd delight, and never wore
A face of greater joy before.
Met Britain's Genius t'other day;
Both look'd delight, and never wore
A face of greater joy before.
“How false the stories some have spread
(The last began,) immortal Maid!
How false the tale, that never times
Were spotted with such numerous crimes;
That never days, like these, were known,
With such degenerate weeds o'ergrown!
Hear them,—and Virtue prostrate lies,
While Vice and Folly tyrannize;
Religion's lamp hath lost its light,
No man is good, no deed is right!
But, best of Graces, every day,
In public while you please to stray
Thro' my fair realms, you prove full well
The falshood of the tale they tell.”
(The last began,) immortal Maid!
How false the tale, that never times
Were spotted with such numerous crimes;
That never days, like these, were known,
With such degenerate weeds o'ergrown!
Hear them,—and Virtue prostrate lies,
While Vice and Folly tyrannize;
Religion's lamp hath lost its light,
No man is good, no deed is right!
But, best of Graces, every day,
In public while you please to stray
Thro' my fair realms, you prove full well
The falshood of the tale they tell.”
Her cheeks in crimson blushes dyed,
The heav'n-born Virgin thus reply'd:
The heav'n-born Virgin thus reply'd:
“Bright Genius of the happiest isle,
That lives in heav'n's auspicious smile;
Ah! wonder not, that, thus carest,
I leave the mansions of the blest;
Delighted thro' thy realms to rove;
—For Love, thou know'st, engages Love.
And wheresoe'er I pass along,
In private or amidst the throng,
Whether the palace of the great
I visit, or the humbler seat;
A pleasing welcome still attends,
And all rejoice to be my friends!
Thus I diffuse my comforts round,
And offer balm to ev'ry wound:
Thus universal good supply,
And wipe the tear from every eye!”
That lives in heav'n's auspicious smile;
Ah! wonder not, that, thus carest,
I leave the mansions of the blest;
Delighted thro' thy realms to rove;
—For Love, thou know'st, engages Love.
169
In private or amidst the throng,
Whether the palace of the great
I visit, or the humbler seat;
A pleasing welcome still attends,
And all rejoice to be my friends!
Thus I diffuse my comforts round,
And offer balm to ev'ry wound:
Thus universal good supply,
And wipe the tear from every eye!”
“Ah no, the Genius smiling said,
I saw but now, immortal Maid,
The tender tears in plenty flow—
(Tears drawn by Pity and by you!)
From her fair eyes, whom, at first look,
I frankly own that I mistook
For you yourself; though pleas'd to see
'Twas one so near and dear to me.”
I saw but now, immortal Maid,
The tender tears in plenty flow—
(Tears drawn by Pity and by you!)
From her fair eyes, whom, at first look,
I frankly own that I mistook
For you yourself; though pleas'd to see
'Twas one so near and dear to me.”
“I know her well, (the Grace rejoin'd)
My sister, Pity, form'd her mind;
She long has our familiar been:
—'Tis H---'s countess, that you mean.
I know the place, the time I know,
—'Twas at my favourite house below:
Where many a bright and noble eye
Have paid their debt to Charity:
Where e'en your Prince , you must confess,
Touch'd with the tender soft distress,
Cou'd not refrain the melting tear,
But own'd, that I indeed liv'd there!”
My sister, Pity, form'd her mind;
She long has our familiar been:
—'Tis H---'s countess, that you mean.
I know the place, the time I know,
—'Twas at my favourite house below:
Where many a bright and noble eye
Have paid their debt to Charity:
Where e'en your Prince , you must confess,
Touch'd with the tender soft distress,
170
But own'd, that I indeed liv'd there!”
“Yes, Charity—with loftier tone,
Britannia's genius then went on;
That prince I call with pleasure mine,
The more, my friend, as he is thine!
His brother too,—(Thou know'st him well,
What need for me his worth to tell?)
Thy Patron shines! and long will be
(If heav'n indulge or thee or me)
The friend, the guardian, the defence,
Of Briton, virtue, innocence!
“Under his illustrious reign,
“Mistress of the subject main,
“Glory shall my sails unfurl;
“Courage shall my thunders hurl;
“Peace at home my plains shall bless;
“Freedom range with happiness:
“Labour his sounding anvil ply;
“Through the loom the shuttle fly;
“Arts their wreath-crown'd head shall rear;
“Virtue their reward shall bear:
“Bright religion through the land,
“Pleas'd, shall wave her olive wand;
“Whilst thou, immortal maid, shalt be
“An undivided friend to me;
“And suppliant win th' eternal smile,
“That gives its glory to each isle.”
Britannia's genius then went on;
That prince I call with pleasure mine,
The more, my friend, as he is thine!
His brother too,—(Thou know'st him well,
What need for me his worth to tell?)
Thy Patron shines! and long will be
(If heav'n indulge or thee or me)
The friend, the guardian, the defence,
Of Briton, virtue, innocence!
“Under his illustrious reign,
“Mistress of the subject main,
“Glory shall my sails unfurl;
“Courage shall my thunders hurl;
“Peace at home my plains shall bless;
“Freedom range with happiness:
“Labour his sounding anvil ply;
“Through the loom the shuttle fly;
“Arts their wreath-crown'd head shall rear;
“Virtue their reward shall bear:
“Bright religion through the land,
“Pleas'd, shall wave her olive wand;
“Whilst thou, immortal maid, shalt be
“An undivided friend to me;
“And suppliant win th' eternal smile,
“That gives its glory to each isle.”
Poems | ||