 | Poems |  |
Miss GEORGE.
See George in the sweet paths of Melody tread,
By dull, frigid Insensibility led:
Tho' careless to please, her meek essays delight,
For she charms the rude throng, e'en in Dullness' despite.—
Had her gentle strains join'd the Syrens' fell band,
Ulysses had row'd to their dangerous land;
His Prudence had fled, and, his Wisdom had slept,
And Juno had rav'd, and Minerva had wept:
Then his name had not shone in the immortal story,
And Ithaca's matron had sigh'd for his glory.
By dull, frigid Insensibility led:
Tho' careless to please, her meek essays delight,
For she charms the rude throng, e'en in Dullness' despite.—
Had her gentle strains join'd the Syrens' fell band,
Ulysses had row'd to their dangerous land;
His Prudence had fled, and, his Wisdom had slept,
And Juno had rav'd, and Minerva had wept:
Then his name had not shone in the immortal story,
And Ithaca's matron had sigh'd for his glory.
Its anodyne powers the sick'ning make cheery,
And tears off the chain from the mind of the weary;
By her soft, blissful sonnets, all bosoms inspiring,
Even Spleen grows diseas'd—and, Despair lies expiring.
As the lark chaunts at sun-rise his diurnal pray'r,
All her loud liquid notes charge the babbling air;
The sounds were not sweeter when Thebes' famous wall
Obey'd the soft magic of Harmony's call;
For spells may be said to exist in that tone,
Whose graces can conquer all hearts—but her own.
Cecilia thus warbled the heaven-fraught line,
For her song was ador'd ere the nymph was divine.
And tears off the chain from the mind of the weary;
75
Even Spleen grows diseas'd—and, Despair lies expiring.
As the lark chaunts at sun-rise his diurnal pray'r,
All her loud liquid notes charge the babbling air;
The sounds were not sweeter when Thebes' famous wall
Obey'd the soft magic of Harmony's call;
For spells may be said to exist in that tone,
Whose graces can conquer all hearts—but her own.
Cecilia thus warbled the heaven-fraught line,
For her song was ador'd ere the nymph was divine.
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