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“ Nor shall I quickly wither like the rose-bud

from the tree, “ My queen-like graces shining when my beauty's gone

from me. “ But when the sculptur'd marble is raised o'er

my head,

« And the matchless Blanch lies lifeless among

the noble dead, This saintly lady Abbess hath made me justly

fear, “ It nothing will avail me that I were wor

shipp'd here."

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LINES

ON THE SAME PICTURE BEING REMOVED TO

MAKE PLACE FOR A PORTRAIT OF A LADY

BY TITIAN.

Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place
Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?
Come, fair and pretty, tell to me,
Who, in thy life-time, thou might'st be.
Thou pretty art and fair,
But with the lady Blanch thou never must

compare. No need for Blanch her history to tell ; Whoever saw her face, they there did read it

well. But when I look on thee, I only know There lived a pretty maid some hundred years

ago.

LINES

ON THE CELEBRATED PICTURE BY LIONARDO

DA VINCI, CALLED THE VIRGIN OF THE

ROCKS.

WHILE young

John runs to greet The greater Infant's feet, The Mother standing by, with trembling passion Of devout admiration, Beholds the engaging mystic play, and pretty

adoration;
Nor knows as yet the full event
Of those so low beginnings,
From whence we date our winnings,
But wonders at the intent
Of those new rites, and what that strange child-

worship meant.
But at her side
An angel doth abide,
With such a perfect joy
As no dim doubts alloy,

An intuition,
A glory, an amenity,
Passing the dark condition
Of blind humanity,
As if he surely knew
All the blest wonders should ensue,
Or he had lately left the upper sphere,
And had read all the sovran schemes and divine

riddles there.

ON THE SAME.

MATERNAL lady with the virgin grace,
Heaven-born thy Jesus seemeth sure,
And thou a virgin pure.
Lady most perfect, when thy sinless face
Men look upon, they wish to be
A Catholic, Madonna fair, to worship thee.

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