Such Force, fair Virtue does impart, By Thee prefented to our View ; It moves and melts each ftubborn Heart, While dreft in Angels pureft Light, Wou'd the once more her Skies forfake, To bless Mankind, than from thy Mufe? Tranfported then with fond Surprize, 'Till viewing thofe deceiving Charms, Greatness no more, with all her Train, By Thee inftructed to disdain, C 3 No more Renown and fpecious Fame, The Brave and Generous Breaft to awe, Against that Dread thy Scenes unfold, The Soul a while her Ground maintains, To view her Rage direct the Dart, *See Monf. Bruyere's Characters or Manners of the Age, publifhd from the French by Mr. Rowe. Eager Eager our Souls to bring Relief, Swift from their opening Bofom flow, To footh the mourning Parents Grief, Or guard the Infant from the Blow.. So lively has each Nymph complain'd, A while we argue to perfwade Our melting Eyes to hide their Woe, Till to their View the lovely Maid Reveals her Wounds, and bids 'em flow. Thy artful Voice, with equal Eafe, Who in your foft deceiving Strains With thofe kind Conquerors agree; Who threaten first the dreadful Chains, Then fet the trembling Captive free. What Raptures does thy Verfe infufe, While for bright Fame, or gay Delight, Nature aftonish'd at thy Art Cafts on thy Mufe a jealous Eye; Her Joys unable to impart, Or longer pleafe when thou art by. The Artift thus, his Skill to grace, Each glowing Charm the Canvass fires, Who owes that Beauty fhe admires, What, tho' our Lawrels fairer rife, We pay too dearly for the Prize, We Thus fadly purchas'd by thy Doom. Pity, ye Gods, that doubtful Dart Which your myfterious Anger threw, Shou'd give at once both Joy and Smart, Augment our Fame and Sorrow too. Juft Juft fo the Skies, feverely bright, Their vengeful Light'nings oft employ, And gild that Oak with fairer Light," They mean next Moment to destroy. How mournful is the only Choice, Or never hope our own fhou'd please. Thus to the Heirs of bright Renown, Who, e'er they boaft the Regal Crown, Muft view their King and Parent Dye.. Strange, that the Glories which we claim See SHAKESPEAR's Awful Reverend Shade And binds thy Brows with Lawrel, made To thy Indulgence pleas'd to owe Shakespear's Works, revis'd and corre&ed by Mr. Rowe. C 5 To |