CATHARINA:

THE SECOND PART.

On her Marriage to George Courtenay, Esq.

[June, 1792.]

BELIEVE it or not, as you choose,
The doctrine is certainly true,
That the future is known to the muse,
And poets are oracles too.

I did but express a desire,

To see Catharina at home,
At the side of my friend George's fire,
And lo-she is actually come.

Such prophecy some may despise,
But the wish of a poet and friend

Perhaps is approv'd in the skies,

And therefore attains to its end.
"Twas a wish that flew ardently forth
From a bosom effectually warm'd
With the talents, the graces, and worth
Of the person for whom it was form'd

Maria* would leave us, I know,

To the grief and regret of us all,
But less to our grief could we view
Catharina the Queen of the Hall.
And therefore I wish'd as I did,

And therefore this union of hands
Not a whisper was heard to forbid,
But all cry-Amen-to the banns

*Lady Throckmorton.

Since therefore I seem to incur

No danger of wishing in vain, When making good wishes for Her,

I will e'en to my wishes again— With one I have made her a Wife,

And now I will try with another, Which I cannot suppress for my life How soon I can make her a Mother,

AN EPITAPH.

[1792.]

HERE lies one who never drew

Blood himself, yet many slew;

Gave the gun its aim, and figure

Made in field, yet ne'er pull'd trigger.

Armed men have gladly made
Him their guide, and him obey'd
At his signified desire,

Would advance, present, and Fire

Stout he was, and large of limb,
Scores have fled at sight of him;
And to all this fame he rose

Only following his Nose.

Neptune was he call'd, not He
Who controls the boist'rous sea,
But of happier command,
Neptune of the furrow'd land;
And your wonder vain to shorten,
Pointer to Sir John Throckmorton.

EPITAPH ON FOP,

A DOG BELONGING TO LADY THROCKMORTON.

[August, 1792.]

THOUGH once a puppy, and though Fop by name, Here moulders One whose bones some honour claim No sycophant, although of spaniel race,

And though no hound, a martyr to the chase

Ye squirrels, rabbits, leverets, rejoice,
Your haunts no longer echo to his voice;
This record of his fate exulting view,

He died worn out with vain pursuit of you.
"Yes" the indignant shade of Fop replies-
'And worn with vain pursuit, Man also dies."

SONNET

TO

GEORGE ROMNEY, ESQ.

ON

His picture of me in Crayons, drawn at Eartham in the 61st year of my age, and in the months of August and September, 1792.

[October, 1792.]

ROMNEY, expert infallibly to trace

On chart or canvass, not the form alone And semblance, but, however faintly shown, The mind's impression too on every face

With strokes that time ought never to erase

Thou hast so pencill'd mine, that though I own

The subject worthless, I have never known

The artist shining with superiour grace.

But this I mark-that symptoms none of wo
In thy incomparable work appear.
Well-I am satisfied it should be so,

Since, on maturer thought, the cause is clear:

For in my looks what sorrow couldst thou see
When I was Hayley's guest, and sat to Thee?

ON

RECEIVING HAYLEY'S PICTURE.

[January, 1793.]

IN language warm as could be breath'd or penn'd,

Thy picture speaks th' Original, my Friend,
Not by those looks that indicate thy mind-
They only speak thee Friend of all mankind;
Expression here more soothing still I see,
That Friend of all a partial Friend to me

EPITAPH

ON

MR. CHESTER, OF CHICHELEY.

[April 1793.]

TEARS flow, and cease not, where the good man lies, Till all who knew him follow to the skies.

Tears therefore fall where Chester's ashes sleep; Him wife, friends, brothers, children, servants, weep, And justly-few shall ever him transcend

As husband, parent, brother, master, friend.

ON

A PLANT OF VIRGIN'S BOWER

DESIGNED TO COVER A GARDEN-SEAT.

[Spring of 1793.]

THRIVE, gentle plant; and weave a bow'r
For Mary and for me,

And deck with many a splendid flow'r

Thy foliage large and free.

Thou cam'st from Eartham, and wilt shade

(If truly I divine)

Some future day th' illustrious head

Of Him who made thee mine.