 | Poems |  |
Mrs. WILSON.
Tripping light o'er the ground, see gay Wilson advancing,
Like the suite of the Morning, which Guido drew dancing;
Or the dimpl'd Euphrosyne, arm'd in her eyes,
Or a Parthian huntress, who wounds as she flies.
She bursts on mankind like the type of Good Humour,
And her smiles have a spell that can regulate Rumour:
So archly she looks, and so beauteous her face is,
Like Venus escap'd from the hands of the Graces.
Such Wilson now is, by the wanton loves led,
Such B---y once was, ere her innocence fled.
Behold that frail fair, how depress'd and dejected,
By a Public despis'd, by that Public neglected;
Tho' her face wears a smile, the sad effort of art,
The light Troop of Gladness have long fled her heart;
In which chilly Misery ever will mourn,
And pant for that peace which must never return.—
No roses remain, the fond wish to inflame,
Except when her cheek is suffus'd by her shame.
Her husband's pale manes obtrude on her slumbers,
And point out his mission in Fate's awful numbers;
'Till, madd'ning with woe, and, from happiness driv'n,
She turns from her vices to supplicate Heaven!
Like the suite of the Morning, which Guido drew dancing;
Or the dimpl'd Euphrosyne, arm'd in her eyes,
Or a Parthian huntress, who wounds as she flies.
She bursts on mankind like the type of Good Humour,
And her smiles have a spell that can regulate Rumour:
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Like Venus escap'd from the hands of the Graces.
Such Wilson now is, by the wanton loves led,
Such B---y once was, ere her innocence fled.
Behold that frail fair, how depress'd and dejected,
By a Public despis'd, by that Public neglected;
Tho' her face wears a smile, the sad effort of art,
The light Troop of Gladness have long fled her heart;
In which chilly Misery ever will mourn,
And pant for that peace which must never return.—
No roses remain, the fond wish to inflame,
Except when her cheek is suffus'd by her shame.
Her husband's pale manes obtrude on her slumbers,
And point out his mission in Fate's awful numbers;
'Till, madd'ning with woe, and, from happiness driv'n,
She turns from her vices to supplicate Heaven!
Ye daughters of Beauty, to worth be inclin'd,
Preserve your importance, and brighten mankind;
Be taught by example, ye cannot be blest,
If Virtue withdraws her sweet beams from the breast;
That the wiles of Seduction are meant to destroy,
And extinguish that lamp which should light us to joy!
Preserve your importance, and brighten mankind;
Be taught by example, ye cannot be blest,
If Virtue withdraws her sweet beams from the breast;
That the wiles of Seduction are meant to destroy,
And extinguish that lamp which should light us to joy!
How serenely sits Innocence, heaven-born maid!
With the precepts of angels her mind is array'd;
She guides her calm being, unconscious of strife,
And smiles as the Fates cut the thread of her life:
The last sighs of Virtue are Nature's great pride,
They turn the fell dart, fraught with sorrow, aside;
The pangs of Mortality sink in the ablution,
They triumph o'er Death in the bright dissolution.
Tho' Want's pallid arm the faint victim incloses,
Her faith in her God strews her pillow with roses;
Her spirit ascends o'er the bourn of her mind,
And leaves the base dregs of existence behind.
With the precepts of angels her mind is array'd;
She guides her calm being, unconscious of strife,
And smiles as the Fates cut the thread of her life:
The last sighs of Virtue are Nature's great pride,
They turn the fell dart, fraught with sorrow, aside;
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They triumph o'er Death in the bright dissolution.
Tho' Want's pallid arm the faint victim incloses,
Her faith in her God strews her pillow with roses;
Her spirit ascends o'er the bourn of her mind,
And leaves the base dregs of existence behind.
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