 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
159
To Clemene, on her Birth-day.
Hail, Thou most lov'd! replete with ev'ry Charm,
Angel Incarnate! Virtue's brightest Form!
What Words, what Numbers shall I now select
To speak thy Praises and my own Respect?
What potent Language shall my Thoughts convey,
To tell the Wonders of this pregnant Day?
Vainly the Muse attempts the daring Song,
Her self so feeble and her Theme so strong.
Abash'd, she shuns the envy'd Height to soar,
And hails the Goodness which she can't explore.
Yet hopes, at least, you will her Zeal approve,
Who shews her Weakness to express her Love.
Fondly to Thee she wings her airy Way,
To greet Thee on thy own important Day:
A Day my grateful Heart has sacred held,
For having first Thy beauteous Form reveal'd.
Distinguish'd from the rest, it shall appear,
For ever honour'd and for ever dear.
Angel Incarnate! Virtue's brightest Form!
What Words, what Numbers shall I now select
To speak thy Praises and my own Respect?
What potent Language shall my Thoughts convey,
To tell the Wonders of this pregnant Day?
Vainly the Muse attempts the daring Song,
Her self so feeble and her Theme so strong.
Abash'd, she shuns the envy'd Height to soar,
And hails the Goodness which she can't explore.
Yet hopes, at least, you will her Zeal approve,
Who shews her Weakness to express her Love.
Fondly to Thee she wings her airy Way,
To greet Thee on thy own important Day:
160
For having first Thy beauteous Form reveal'd.
Distinguish'd from the rest, it shall appear,
For ever honour'd and for ever dear.
Oh that my Pen soft Blessings could dispense,
And Streams of Happiness distill from thence!
How greatly blest, how far remov'd from Cares,
Should be Clemene's easy-flowing Years!
Not one should roll, no not an Hour take Flight,
Unmark'd with Joy, un-colour'd with Delight.
The hasty Moments, eager to be gone,
Should, big with Pleasure, crowd each other on;
And This great Day, superior to the rest,
Should oft return, and be as often blest.
And Streams of Happiness distill from thence!
How greatly blest, how far remov'd from Cares,
Should be Clemene's easy-flowing Years!
Not one should roll, no not an Hour take Flight,
Unmark'd with Joy, un-colour'd with Delight.
The hasty Moments, eager to be gone,
Should, big with Pleasure, crowd each other on;
And This great Day, superior to the rest,
Should oft return, and be as often blest.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |