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Th' imagin'd bliss concludes in real woe.
So from soft breezes of the southern wind,
Uncumber'd sweets we fondly hope to find;
But soon, alas! succeeds immoderate rain,
And sadly renders all the promis'd pleasure vain.

GODOLPHIN 's form'd among the first to shine, That other conqueror of the conquering line; Nor pride her mien, nor art her aspect knows, Her full renown from single Nature flows; Rich in unpractis'd charms, she scatters chains, And, shunning empire, certain empire gains; Neglectful, yet secure, with arrows plays ; Unmeaning, throws, and, undesiring, slays; She stoops to make no prize her little aim, But emulates her fire, and conquers but for fame,

BOLTON's majestic form invades the sight
With awful wonder and sublime delight;
Here differing deities conspire our fate,
Venus and Juno; sweetness dwells with state :
High pines are emblems of her graceful size,
And bending osiers shew her humble guise.
Disease solicits her with impious care,

And too too fast her precious spirits wear,

Not thus her charms: ev'n yielding, how she reigns, And conquers others, while herself 's in chains! Great, yet opprest! were Virtue's image seen, Virtue could live but equally serene ;

In pain she proves the prowess of her mind,

And only when she dies deceives mankind.

Forbid it, Heaven! that Fate should ever close

Such all-commanding eyes, and plunge the world in woes!

TO SEYMOUR, daring Muse, thy numbers raise; Muse, thy best numbers flag beneath her praise : Lo! sweetest youth, disclaiming artful care, Sports in her face, and revels in her air; Briskness and innocence their powers unite, And, next her spotless mind, her skin is white. When radiant blushes to her cheeks repair, (Such lovely stains become the brighter fair) Gods! how that paint of nature tempts our eyes; How Earth's Aurora far transcends the skies! But her high merit checks the bold delight, We tremble at the soul, yet riot at the sight.

When TUFTON was created, Nature took Such care to furnish out a conquering look, Who did not think her hoard of lustre spent, And eyes design'd hereafter innocent?

Nor was she less extravagant in bloom,

As if she meant no future charms, and beggar'd all her loom.

For beauteous Helen Troy in fires was seen, The world was sacrific'd to Egypt's queen; Behold in ASHBURNHAM a brighter dame, But Virtue stifles such destructive flame,

Heavens! were she free from Hymen's envy'd chains,
Who would not rage with Cupid's fiercest pains?
Marriage suspends our transports, for who dare
Burn, now Hope 's fled, and tempt extreme despair?
Th' illustrious Ancients were by halves divine,
The face and mind did ne'er together shine:
Here all accomplishments are fully shown,
And every Goddess is compris'd in one;
So fair; yet fairness seems her smallest praise,
Her soul's profuse of light, and darts immortal rays.

PIERPOINT 's in all the pomp of youth array'd, Charming as winter's shine, or summer's shade; Fair as descending snow, or mounting light, Born to shame fancy, and enslave at sight: What's all our boasted freedom, when we gaze. Britain's distinguish'd blessing flies, and man in chains



The graceful movement of the wife of Jove,
Th' enchanting aspect of the Queen of Love,
Minerva's skill and excellence in arts,
Apollo's rays, and Cupid's piercing darts,
Bright Hebe's youth, and chaste Diana's mind,
Softness and sweetness of the Churchill kind,
All blended in one perfect piece, would shew
PROBY'S Consummate image to the ravish'd view.

If breathing flowers such pleasing sweets dispense, If light has charms, and so allures the sense,

If music's strains have that persuasive art,

O lovely VAUGHAN! how form'd to strike the heart! Such a complexion foils the pride of May,

Such looks add splendor to the brightest day;

Such tuneful speech affords so moving sounds, We fancy crowns in chains, and taste delight in wounds.

COLLIER's a subject dear to British lays, Her shape, her every feature's wrought for praise; What humid pearls of sorrow seem to rise, As if she wept the ravage of her eyes Still, still we bleed, and no relief is gain'd,

Her killing beauty 's true, her saving pity feign'd.

Thy rhymes, oh Muse, with young LOUISA grace, That growing wonder of the Brudenell race; Ev'n now her charms disclose a pleasing bloom, But promise riper sweetness yet to come; Nature, for all her vast indulgence, fears T'entrust perfection to those tender years, But shortly will her choicest stores display, And give to such a morn an answerable day. What mighty glories shall this Fair adorn, Allied to Mira, and of Richmond born; Mira so bright to kindle Granville's fire,

How did she shine, that could such warmth inspire! Richmond, so great to give that title fame,

And more than equal her from whom our toasting

came !

TO REYNOLDS, Muse, that mass of beauty, rise, Her mien, how charming, and how bright her eyes! From opening East less glorious lustre breaks; How Nature's curious pencil paints her cheeks! The Loves, mistaking her for Venus, throng, And feasted thus continue in the wrong.

Seems she not more than numbers can express? Seems not ev'n thought afraid to make such wonders


Men may with justice Nature's dealing blame,
And charge their parent with a partial aim;
Who too, too lavish to her female race,

Bestows fresh gifts, and springs new mines of grace;
But, ah! to them so sparing, deigns to raise
No hidden stores of wit to give proportion'd praise.

FARMER's a pattern for the beauteous kind, Compos'd to please, and every way refin'd; Obliging with reserve, and humbly great, Though gay, yet modest, though sublime, yet sweet; Fair without art, and graceful without pride, By merit and descent to deathless fame allied.

Seek not the Venus star that gilds the skies,
Two brighter stars are found in WALPOLE's eyes;
Desire not Nature's wealth in fields display'd,

Far nobler stores enrich the blooming maid;
Rack not your thought to paint what 's sweetly rare,
Look but on WALPOLE's form, 'tis all familiar there.

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