A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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STANZAS, TO MISS LATOUCHE, THE LATE COUNTESS OF LANESBOROUGH, WITH A VOLUME OF POEMS,
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
189
STANZAS, TO MISS LATOUCHE, THE LATE COUNTESS OF LANESBOROUGH, WITH A VOLUME OF POEMS,
SELECTED FROM OUR BEST WRITERS, BY THE AUTHOR, HER PRECEPTOR ON HER BIRTH-DAY, TUESDAY, JANUARY XVIITH, MDCCLXXV.
Hail! dear Eliza!—hail! the auspicious day,
Sacred to innocence and smiling mirth;—
Strike up the instruments, all hearts be gay,
And with due honours grace Eliza's Birth.
While all around in just applause combine,
Can I, who best should know thee, niggard mine?
Sacred to innocence and smiling mirth;—
Strike up the instruments, all hearts be gay,
And with due honours grace Eliza's Birth.
While all around in just applause combine,
Can I, who best should know thee, niggard mine?
That matchless elegance and winning grace,
Which mark thy movements thro' the mazy dance;
That perfect symmetry of mien and face,
Are merely foils thy merits to enhance:
In the rich temple of thy ample mind
Are all the virtues with good sense inshrin'd.
Which mark thy movements thro' the mazy dance;
That perfect symmetry of mien and face,
Are merely foils thy merits to enhance:
In the rich temple of thy ample mind
Are all the virtues with good sense inshrin'd.
190
Even on the festal hour, lo! I encroach;
Sure proof how well the truth I may attest;
For, truth to thee at all times shall approach,
Not as a stranger, but a welcome guest;
So by hereditary worth inspir'd,
In affluence blest, unenvied and admir'd.
Sure proof how well the truth I may attest;
For, truth to thee at all times shall approach,
Not as a stranger, but a welcome guest;
So by hereditary worth inspir'd,
In affluence blest, unenvied and admir'd.
Could words the dictates of the soul impart,
On such a theme the muse might 'raptur'd dwell;
But, like thyself, Eliza! void of art,
These simple lines my warm affection tell;
While, thy felicity my aim and end,
To thee this votive garland they commend.
On such a theme the muse might 'raptur'd dwell;
But, like thyself, Eliza! void of art,
These simple lines my warm affection tell;
While, thy felicity my aim and end,
To thee this votive garland they commend.
To raise the genius poets wrote of old,
To mend the heart, and generous views inspire:
Their happiest portraits here display'd behold,
And let thy soul bright emulation fire.
One virtuous action, one well-natur'd deed,
Does all address in polish'd arts exceed.
To mend the heart, and generous views inspire:
Their happiest portraits here display'd behold,
And let thy soul bright emulation fire.
One virtuous action, one well-natur'd deed,
Does all address in polish'd arts exceed.
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |