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Poems on Various Subjects

with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden
 
 

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TO A LADY.
 
 
 
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284

TO A LADY.

[Numbers like yours, cou'd gild the tragic show]

Numbers like yours, cou'd gild the tragic show,
Give smiles to death, and decency to woe;

285

Diffuse a pleasing lustre o'er the tomb,
Brighten the shade, and beautify the gloom.
To be thus mourn'd,—some generous souls wou'd chuse,
To fall submissive martyrs to the muse;
Wou'd court the cold embrace, nor fear the sting,
Pleas'd with the fate, which such a pen shou'd sing.
Death has no terrors to the good, and brave,
The dread of fools, and bugbear of the slave.
A mind like yours, can all its rage defy,
And hail the storm, that wafts you to the sky.

306

[Whether o'er plains she likes to rove]

Whether o'er plains she likes to rove,
Or haunts the music of the grove;
Or if the brooks delight her more,
Or airy heights where lapwings soar,
Close to her steps I'd follow still,
And trace the nymph from hill to hill.
Tell me, ye swains, O! tell me where,
At noon to find the sleeping fair, &c.