University of Virginia Library

Instructions to a Painter to draw Amasia, with some reflections on the Artist's skill, resolving to describe her, my self, much better with my Pen.

Least future Ages should my Passion blame,
And think my Mistress worthless of her fame;
Least daring Lovers should presume to raise
Some other fair to my Amasia's, praise;
And with an impious boldness proudly boast
Their Conqu'rour greatest, and her Charms the most;
Least of their Chains grown fond, they strive to prove
That theirs excels my vast excess of Love;
Painter, exert your utmost Pow'r and Art,
To draw Amasia just in every part,
As she is drawn here in her Sylvius heart.
Still in my Breast you may her image see,
(O would her Image could be truly She!)
Nay, in my Soul you may her Picture find,
Love drew it there, but drew it soft and kind,
For Love Paints always best, tho' Love is blind.
The famous Artist, that his Work might move,
That he might justly draw the Queen of Love,
Had several Beauteous Nymphs before his view,
And something Charming from each Feature drew;
But ah! no Mortal can Amasia draw,
Unless ten thousand Venus'es He saw.
O that some God would Work his fancy o'er,
To paint her Beauties true, he cannot paint them more.
Not Phœbus self could draw her justly bright,
Tho' for his Pencil he us'd rays of light.
But you, good Artest, Summons all your skill,
Her Charms will raise your Pow'r, I know they will.
Draw her, ah! draw her most Divinely Fair,
Soft, Charming, Sweet, and with a taking Air;
Draw her all Heav'nly, Affable, and Free,
Haughty, yet Courteous let her Carriage be,
O draw her as she is, that all may know 'tis She.
Yet hold—
For sure her Beauties would be lost in Paint;
My Pen must draw her, since the Pencil can't.
—You are a Species, Lovely fair, alone,
A Godlike something in your Face is known;
Which can't by Pencil, or by Pen be shown.
Such are the Charms of your Attractive mien,
They only are exprest by being seen.
Gods! how successful would that Painter be
That could make Pictures look Divine like thee!
Who could those Eyes with all their motions draw!
Alas! it cannot be—
Unless, like thee, the very Picture saw.
What Paint, what Image can with thee compare?
Ev'n our Idea shews not ought so fair.
Could fancy bring some form before my view,
All wond'rous bright, and charming sweet as you,
I with that form would be Enamour'd too.
What reason could I for my Passion give,
Did any equal to Amasia live?
The World will own, all who your Beauties see,
I am not blind as other Lovers be,
For 'tis the Fairest only that can Vanquish me.
Believe, Amasia, since you Cruel prove,
It is thy Beauty, 'tis not thee I Love.
Beauty, which, like the Vestal Fire, may boast,
You the World's Empress, till it's flames are lost.
Beauty, which I so lively will display,
Mankind shall yield to your Imperial Sway,
And every Am'rous Youth, like Sylvius shall Obey.
So shall I Charm, by telling my desires,
All shall feel Flames from the reflected Fires.
And when the World thus shall your Picture see,
Your Sex at once shall wonder at, and envy thee.