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But 'mid th' inestimable heap
*Let Party-Rage be laid asleep!

Now on the canvass be display'd The figure of a weeping Maid ! 27 Paint her thin cheeks of pallid hue; With flooding tears those cheeks bedew; And turn her humble, streaming eye To the soft mercies of the Sky. Upon her arm, with haggard mien, Let F*x's tawny figure lean; And, in his face, pourtray the smart Which Conscience lashes on his heart. Before them paint the bright abodes Of Virtue and her kindred Gods: 280 Let Hope beside the portal stand, The anchor in her beck'ning hand, And kindly bid the sorrowing Pair To urge their steps, and enter there.

Your hand an harder task must try,
And change the Vet'ran to the Boy !
No more let T**p's form appear
With martial grace and hoary hair!
Let crisped curls his brow bedeck,
And hang in ringlets on his neck ;

Such as around the fingers twin'd
Of panting Venus, when reclin'd
Upon her breast Adonis lay,
And heav'nly raptures bless'd the day!

Paint on his cheek health's crimson glow,
Let whiteness clad his youthful brow,
And give him ev'ry charm beside
Expected by a blooming Bride!

But if.your pencil should refuse The arduous task; my forward Muse 300 An easy subject will propose. Time, Sir, and you have long been foes: For once, then, take the lead of Tine, And wrinkle T**p in her prime. For since you cannot bring his years Back to the strength and youth of hers, Your hand to fitness must accord, And make her aged as her Lord. The wrinkles on her face display, And turn her floating tresses grey. 310 And give her such a form and dress As she at fifty will possess ; Such as your pencil would have given To FERRARS, now a Saint in Heaven. In nuptial ties this truth I hold : Both should be Young, or botk be Old!

Again I urge the pencil's power: Come, trace the lone monastic tower, Whose walls, with ivy overgrown, Echo the sad repentant moan

320 Of sinful souls, who glad repair To shed their daily sorrows there;

And in a turret place the bell
That from the dark and dreary cell,
At midnight hour, breaks off the sleep
Of those who only wake to weep.
Beneath the wall's dark umbrage place,
Repentance mark'd upon her face,
Some aged and repentant Dame,
That doth the heav'nly mercies claim. 330
Let her before His Image bend,
Who died to be the Sinner's Friend;
And hang the cross adown her side,
Emblem of that whereon He died.
Make her eyes shed the dropping tear,
As tho’she urg'd a doubtful prayer;
And give to the repentant Nun,
The wrinkled form of H * * TON.

Thus, thus, my Friend, exert your art, And please the eye, and mend the heart ! 346 Uncrimson A **r's gawdy face, But leave her all her share of Grace. To M*LB** give her Father's spirit, And D ** R all her Mother's merit. Make C**n sober, P* refin'd, And B ** gen'rous, brave and kind. Let them their better Natures see, And paint them what they ought to be.

Already youthful Bedford's sword, Urg'd by the valor of its Lord, 350

Gives, to a dragon's form, the wound
That lays the monster on the ground.

So may he in his future Age
Quell Passion's unrelenting rage;
Or, by his sweetness, soothe to rest
The Tyrants of the human breast.

Then be yourself! nor blend


fame With Artists of inferior name. Do not your moral works expose At Royal-Academic shows;

sho But thus hold forth, to mend the Town, An exhibition all your own!




[Afterwards Lady Anson. ]




Fair Artist! well thy pencil has essay'd
To lend a poet's fame thy friendly aid ;
Great, Dante's image in thy lines we trace ;
And, while the Muses' train thy colors grace,
The Muse propitious on the draught shall smile,
Nor, envious, leave unsung the generous toil.

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Picture and Poetry just kindred claim, =aniting Their birth, their genius, and pursuits the samé; Daughters of Phoebus and Minerva, they From the same sources draw the heavenly ray._19 Whatever earth, or air, or ocean breeds, Whatever luxury or weakness needs; All forms of beauty Nature's scenes disclose, All images inventive arts compose ;

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