A postscript to the new Bath guide A Poem by Anthony Pasquin [i.e. John Williams] |
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ELIZA. |
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 | A postscript to the new Bath guide |  |
ELIZA.
LO—faultless Eliza! persuasive and mild—She's Propriety's handmaid, and Beauty's own child!
Though by witcheries arm'd, and created to please,
Her trembling accomplishments blaze by degrees;
And Intreaty's most polish'd address must be sung,
Ere the Sciences steal from her mind to her tongue.
Thus the night-chill'd, bent, shrunk, modest tulip requires
Extramundane support from a God's vivid fires,
Imploring hot beams from Day's luminous Ruler,
While the faint reeking herds couch in shades for a cooler:—
Those tears which roll down at the moans of Distress,
Like Heaven's own balm drop to strengthen and bless;
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But to glad timid Worth, and embolden the meek:
Such mellifluous tones from her minstrelsy flow,
They arrest and subdue intellectual Woe!
E'en to govern the spheres radiant Fate would implore her,
Had not Orpheus been wrapt in Empyrean before her—
Should Affliction's keen barb gore her soul's subtle rind,
May the potent Nepenthe bring Peace to her mind.
Could I, like Tibullus, my anguish rehearse,
Irresistible magic should freight every verse.
Ah! come, my Eliza! be happy—be wise—
Ere Time blunt those arrows, which Love gave your eyes;
Let the minions of Hope to young Rapture consign you,
Till the high floods of Joy meliorate and refine you.
| A postscript to the new Bath guide | |