Before the cruel Council let her ftand,

Press the dear ghaftly Head with pitying Hand,
And plead, while Bigotry itself grows mild,
The facred duties of a grateful Child.

Forgive the Muse, if haply fhe commend

A Theme ill-chofen to her skilful Friend;
She, tho' its pow'r commands her willing heart,
Knows not the limits of thy lovely Art,

Yet boldly owns an eager wish to see
Her darling Images adorn'd by thee.

475

The just emotions of her grateful Pride,

Nor fhall her focial Love in filence hide

480

When thy quick Pencil pours upon her fight
Her own Creation in a fairer light;

When her SERENA learns from thee to live,

485

And please by every charm that life can give.

Thou haft imparted to th' ideal Fair

Yet more than Beauty's bloom, and Youth's attractive

air;

For in thy ftudious Nymph th' enamour'd Eye

May, thro' her breast, her gentle Heart defcry; 490 See the fond thoughts, that o'er her Fancy roll,

And Sympathy's foft fwell, that fills her foul.

But

But happier Bards, who boast a higher claim,
Afk from thy Genius an increase of Fame.

Oh! let the Sifters, who, with friendly aid,
The Grecian Lyre, and Grecian Pencil fway'd,
Who join'd their rival Powers with fond delight,
To grace each other with reflected Light,
Let them in BRITAIN thus united reign,

495

And double luftre from that union gain!

Not that my Verfe, adventurous, would pretend

To point each varied fubject to my Friend;

500

Far nobler guides their better aid supply :
When mighty SHAKESPEARE to thy judging eye
Prefents that magic Glass, whose ample Round 505
Reflects each Figure in Creation's bound,

And pours, in floods of fupernatural light,
Fancy's bright Beings on the charmed fight.
This chief Inchanter of the willing breaft,
Will teach thee all the magic he poffeft.
Plac'd in his Circle, mark in colours true

Each brilliant Being that he calls to view :

Wrapt in the gloomy storm, or rob'd in light,
His weird Sifter or his fairy Sprite,

510

Boldly o'erleaping, in the great design,

515

The bounds of Nature, with a Guide divine.

VOL. I.

E

Let

Let MILTON's felf, conductor of thy way,
Lead thy congenial spirit to portray

In Colours, like his Verfe, fublimely strong,
The scenes that blaze in his immortal fong.

See MICHAEL drawn, by many a skilful Hand,

As fuits the Leader of the Seraph-Band!

But oh! how poor the proftrate SATAN lies, *
With bestial form debas'd and goatish eyes!

520

526

How chang'd from him who leads the dire debate,
Fearless tho' fallen, and in Ruin great!
Let thy bold Pencil, more fublimely true,
Present his Arch Apoftate to our view
In worthier Semblance of infernal Pow'r,
And proudly standing like a stately tow'r,
While his infernal mandate bids awake
His Legions, flumbering on the burning Lake.
Or paint him falling from the Realms of Bliss,
Hurl'd in Combustion to the deep Abyss!

530

In light terrific let the Flash difplay

His Pride, ftill proof against almighty Sway:

Tho' vanquifh'd, yet immortal, let his Eye

'The Lightning's flame, the Thunder's bolt defy,

Ver. 523. See NO TE LVI.

535

And

And ftill, with Looks of Execration, dare
To face the Horrors of the last Despair.

To these great Lords of Fancy's wide domain,

That o'er the human Soul unquestion'd reign,
To their fuperior Guidance be confign'd

Thy rival Pencil and congenial Mind.

540

Yet O! let Friendship, ere the Verse she close, 545
Which in juft Tribute to thy Merit flows,

The fanguine wishes of her heart express,
With fond prefages of thy full Succefs.

May Health and Joy, in happiest union join'd,
Breathe their warm Spirit o'er thy fruitful Mind! 550
To noblest Efforts raise thy glowing Heart,
And ftring thy finews to the toils of Art!
May Independance, burfting Fashion's chain,
To eager Genius give the flowing rein,
And o'er thy epic Canvafs fimile to fee

Thy Judgment active, and thy Fancy free!

May thy juft Country, while thy bold defign
Recalls the Heroes of her ancient Line,

555

Gaze on the martial Group with dear delight! May Youth and Valour, kindling at the fight, 560

O'er the bright Tints with Admiration lean,

And catch new Virtue from the moral Scene!

May Time himself a fond Reluctance feel,
Nor from thy aged hand the Pencil steal,
But grant it still to gain increasing Praise,

565

In the late Period of thy lengthen'd days,

While fairest Fortune thy long Life endears,
With RAPHAEL's Glory join'd to TITIAN'S Years!

END OF THE SECOND EPISTLE.

NOTES