 | The miscellaneous works (1739) |  |
To the right honourable the Earl of ---
To thee my muse's softest skill I owe,
For thee, Mirtillo, I indulge it now:
Yet by my praise I would not make thee less,
But something great and worthy thee express;
Yet while I strive the darling thought to paint,
Its beauties in the flat expression faint.
For thee, Mirtillo, I indulge it now:
Yet by my praise I would not make thee less,
But something great and worthy thee express;
Yet while I strive the darling thought to paint,
Its beauties in the flat expression faint.
For there's in thee I know not what divine,
Which must the brightest metaphors out-shine.
When angels, cloath'd in human forms, appear,
Such grandeur, such benignity they wear:
If they discourse, like thine must be their sense,
Like thine their accent, and their eloquence.
Which must the brightest metaphors out-shine.
When angels, cloath'd in human forms, appear,
Such grandeur, such benignity they wear:
If they discourse, like thine must be their sense,
Like thine their accent, and their eloquence.
Not all the gaudy pageantries of state,
But thy own native lustre makes thee great.
In all things modest, fortunate, and brave,
To custom, vice, nor virtue's self a slave;
That's reason, thought, and gen'rous choice in thee,
And not the low effect of dull necessity.
With beauty thou, and blooming life art crown'd,
While flatt'ring pleasures court thee all around;
But thou, with an heroical disdain,
Unconquer'd, unseduc'd dost still remain,
And with a philosophic pride engage
The num'rous follies of a vitious age;
Nor breaks the sun less sully'd from a cloud,
Than thou from all the vices of a crowd.
But thy own native lustre makes thee great.
In all things modest, fortunate, and brave,
To custom, vice, nor virtue's self a slave;
That's reason, thought, and gen'rous choice in thee,
And not the low effect of dull necessity.
With beauty thou, and blooming life art crown'd,
While flatt'ring pleasures court thee all around;
154
Unconquer'd, unseduc'd dost still remain,
And with a philosophic pride engage
The num'rous follies of a vitious age;
Nor breaks the sun less sully'd from a cloud,
Than thou from all the vices of a crowd.
| The miscellaneous works (1739) | |