A collection of original poems and translations By John Whaley |
 |
To a young Lady, who Paints very well,
but always Draws her own Sex to Disadvantage. |
 | A collection of original poems and translations |  |
282
To a young Lady, who Paints very well, but always Draws her own Sex to Disadvantage.
Ingenious Fair, in whose well mingled Dies,
Reflected Charms delight our ravish'd Eyes;
On whose soft Pencil ev'ry Beauty waits
That Nature boasts, or happy Art creates:
Say, when thy Fancy prompts thee to display
The blooming Flow'rs that deck the youthful May,
Seek you not all that Colours can supply
To cheat our Senses, and delude our Eye?
Strives not your ev'ry Stroke with anxious Pain
The Whiteness of the Lilly to retain?
Blot you not out the ill-united Shades
If but one Tulip on your Canvas fades?
And swells not with a conscious Joy your Breast,
If in the happy glowing Tints thou seest
The downy Blushes of the Rose encreast?
Whence strive you then, to hurt your own fair Kind?
How came your Injuries to them confin'd?
Whence dares your Pencil offer to disgrace
Such Looks as well might hint an Angel's Face?
What secret Passion aids thy Touch with Spite
To darken Cloe's Brown, or taint Clarinda's White?
Say, is it Envy guides thy faithless Line?
Can meagre Envy dwell in Breasts like thine?
With Trembling dost thou Cælia's Features trace,
Or fear that Myra's Smiles shou'd thine disgrace?
Reflected Charms delight our ravish'd Eyes;
On whose soft Pencil ev'ry Beauty waits
That Nature boasts, or happy Art creates:
Say, when thy Fancy prompts thee to display
The blooming Flow'rs that deck the youthful May,
Seek you not all that Colours can supply
To cheat our Senses, and delude our Eye?
Strives not your ev'ry Stroke with anxious Pain
The Whiteness of the Lilly to retain?
Blot you not out the ill-united Shades
If but one Tulip on your Canvas fades?
And swells not with a conscious Joy your Breast,
If in the happy glowing Tints thou seest
The downy Blushes of the Rose encreast?
Whence strive you then, to hurt your own fair Kind?
How came your Injuries to them confin'd?
283
Such Looks as well might hint an Angel's Face?
What secret Passion aids thy Touch with Spite
To darken Cloe's Brown, or taint Clarinda's White?
Say, is it Envy guides thy faithless Line?
Can meagre Envy dwell in Breasts like thine?
With Trembling dost thou Cælia's Features trace,
Or fear that Myra's Smiles shou'd thine disgrace?
Thy own fair Self, mistaken Charmer, view,
Learn thy own Power, and let thy Paint be true.
With kindly Care thy happiest Colours blend,
And strive, what Nature fairest forms, to mend:
From Cloe's Eye bid keener Light'nings flow,
Teach Cælia's Cheeks with softer Red to glow:
Still, still, bright Nymph, unrival'd shalt thou shine,
Thy Paint is charming, but thy Form divine.
Learn thy own Power, and let thy Paint be true.
With kindly Care thy happiest Colours blend,
And strive, what Nature fairest forms, to mend:
From Cloe's Eye bid keener Light'nings flow,
Teach Cælia's Cheeks with softer Red to glow:
Still, still, bright Nymph, unrival'd shalt thou shine,
Thy Paint is charming, but thy Form divine.
| A collection of original poems and translations | |