 | A Collection of Original Poems |  |
128
A Defence of Women painting.
The Thought from Dr. Donne.
Since you confess that beauty's your delight,
That what's unseemly's hateful to the sight,
Marcus, I pray, the gentle maiden spare,
Who tries, by art, more lovely to appear:
Condemn her not, if to improve her waist,
You find her straitly by the stays embrac'd;
If she the hand of gentle Crispin prove,
The fault of halting nature to remove;
If Greenough's tincture whiten o'er her teeth,
Or to perfume she owes her sweeter breath:
To please thy eye, she adds to ev'ry grace,
And with vermilion blooms her tempting face;
There Cupid sits, thron'd in the orb of sight
Unseen, secure in all the glare of light;
Thence he exulting flings the fatal dart,
Unerring still to wound the lover's heart:
Thence do we pluck the soul-inspiring kiss,
The grateful prelude of ecstatic bliss;
The kiss to sympathy the bosom warms,
And ev'ry faculty to love alarms.
That what's unseemly's hateful to the sight,
Marcus, I pray, the gentle maiden spare,
Who tries, by art, more lovely to appear:
Condemn her not, if to improve her waist,
You find her straitly by the stays embrac'd;
If she the hand of gentle Crispin prove,
The fault of halting nature to remove;
If Greenough's tincture whiten o'er her teeth,
Or to perfume she owes her sweeter breath:
To please thy eye, she adds to ev'ry grace,
And with vermilion blooms her tempting face;
There Cupid sits, thron'd in the orb of sight
Unseen, secure in all the glare of light;
129
Unerring still to wound the lover's heart:
Thence do we pluck the soul-inspiring kiss,
The grateful prelude of ecstatic bliss;
The kiss to sympathy the bosom warms,
And ev'ry faculty to love alarms.
Why should the use of paint be disallow'd?
Beauty's but colour properly bestow'd;
And when for this the female you contemn,
'Tis not the art—the knowledge you condemn.
Beauty's but colour properly bestow'd;
And when for this the female you contemn,
'Tis not the art—the knowledge you condemn.
Hence, Marcus, learn that ignorance is best,
Knowledge is irksome, while the fool is bless'd;
Beneath a Hudson's, or a Wilson's hand,
Should the lov'd Charlotte rise at your command,
Th' enliven'd canvass glow with ev'ry grace,
Seen in her form, and smiling in her face,
No pleasure would your nicer taste receive,
Because 'tis Art that bids the picture live?
Knowledge is irksome, while the fool is bless'd;
Beneath a Hudson's, or a Wilson's hand,
Should the lov'd Charlotte rise at your command,
Th' enliven'd canvass glow with ev'ry grace,
Seen in her form, and smiling in her face,
No pleasure would your nicer taste receive,
Because 'tis Art that bids the picture live?
130
Do'st thou admire yon blazing orb on high,
Yon twinkling stars that gild the evening sky?
Yes! yes! their vivid colours charm your eye:
Yet search, and 'tis illusion all, you'll find,
'Tis fancy only has these colours join'd;
And if your Charlotte paints, of this be sure,
Her actions too she well can varnish o'er;
A trick you little ween'd—nor knew before.
Yon twinkling stars that gild the evening sky?
Yes! yes! their vivid colours charm your eye:
Yet search, and 'tis illusion all, you'll find,
'Tis fancy only has these colours join'd;
And if your Charlotte paints, of this be sure,
Her actions too she well can varnish o'er;
A trick you little ween'd—nor knew before.
Let delicacy then the maiden spare,
Who tries, by art, more lovely to appear.
Who tries, by art, more lovely to appear.
| A Collection of Original Poems | |