'Tis granted-and their bloom display'd FRAGMENT. Part of a Poem written on Miss Bellamy WHEN IN DUBLIN. FROM slavish rules, mechanic forms, untied, She soars, with sacred nature for her guide. The smile of peace-the wildness of despairThe softening sight-the soul-dissolving tear; Each magic charm the boasted Oldfield knew, Enchanting Bellamy! revives in you. "Tis thine, resistless, the superior art To search the soul, and trace the various heart; Oldmixon's charms, by melody impress'd, May gently touch the song-enamour'd breast; But transient raptures must attend the wound Where the light arrow is convey'd by sound! Or should Mechel all languishing advance, Her limbs display'd in every maze of dance, (The soul untouch'd) she captivates the sight; But breathing wit with judgment must unite To give the man of reason unconfined delight. A lady celebrated for singing. 2 A dancer then in Smock Alley Theatre. FRAGMENT. To Mr. Woods, ARCHITECT OF THE EXCHANGE AT LIVERPOOL. WHERE Mersey' rolls her wealth-bestowing waves, And the wide sandy beach triumphant laves; Where naval store in harbour'd safety rides, Unmoved by storms, unhurt by threatening tides; Commerce-paternal goddess! sits serene, Commandant of the tributes of the main. But yet no temple lifts its high-topp'd spire; Simple her seat-and artless her attire! Around attendant priests in order wait, Guiltless of pomp and ignorant of state: The godhead's power though unadorn'd they own, And bend with incense-at her low-built throne. Pallas beheld-she quits the ambient skies, And thus the blue-eyed maid indignant criesIs it for thee-my Woods!-to sit supine? (Thy genius fraught with every grace of mine) Is it for thee-to whose mysterious hand Science-and sister arts obsequious stand, Inglorious thus to let a goddess pine? No throne-no temple-no superior shrine! Haste, haste! command the well wrought columns rise, And lift my favourite commerce to the skies.' RECANTATION. Of spleen so dormant, indolence so great, ACROSTIC ON POLLY SUTTON. places). 'PRAY tell me, says Venus, one day to the Graces (On a visit they came, and had just taken their [faces: Let me know why of late I can ne'er see your Ladies,nothing I hope happen'd here to affright ye; You've had compliment cards every day to invite ye.' Says Cupid, who guess'd their rebellious proceeding; Understand, dear mamma, there's some mischief abreeding: There's a fair one at Lincoln, so finish'd a beauty, That your loves and your graces all swerve from their duty.' [put on; • On my life (says dame Venus), I'll not be thus Now I think on't, last night some one call'd me Miss Sutton.' ACROSTIC ON WIDOW MADDER. WHERE no ripen'd summer glows, Deserts gloomy, cold, and drear, (Only let the nymph be there) Wreaths of budding sweets would wear. A CHARACTER... WITH A PRESENT. 63 A CHARACTER. THE Muse of a soldier so whimsical sings, Whilst others are cheerfully join'd in the chase, On feasts or on fasts though the parson exclaim, Under hedges or haycocks he'll stick to his game: Yet the priest cannot say he's quite out of his fold, For he's always at church-when a tithe's to be sold. WITH A PRESENT. LET not the hand of Amity be nice! Nor the poor tribute from the heart disclaim; The little rose that laughs upon its stem, If tender'd as the token of esteem. Had I vast hoards of massy wealth to send, Such as your merits might demand-their due! Then should the golden tribute of your friend Rival the treasures of the rich Peru. LINES SENT TO MISS BELL H WITH A PAIR OF BUCKLES. HAPPY trifles, can ye bear EPIGRAPHE FOR DEAN SWIFT'S MONUMENT. EXECUTED BY MR. P. CUNNINGHAM, STATUARY IN DUBLIN. SAY, to the Drapier's vast unbounded fame, What added honours can the sculptor give? None-'tis a sanction from the Drapier's name Must bid the sculptor and his marble live. |