Classic Poem

O Wondrous Art! that grace to shadows gives!
By whose command the lovely phantom lives!
Smiles with her smiles! the mimic eye instils
A real frame! the fancy'd lightning kills!
Thus mirrors catch the love-inspiring face,
And the new charmer grace returns for grace.
Hence shall thy beauties, when no more appears
Their fair possessor, shine a thousand years;
By age uninjur'd, future times adorn,
And wann the hearts of millions yet unborn,
Who, gazing on the portrait with a sigh,
Shall grieve such perfect charms could ever die.
How would they grieve if to such beauties join'd
The paint could shew the wonders of thy mind!
O Virgin! born th' admiring world to grace,
Transmit thy excellence to latest days;
Yield to thy lover's vows, and then shall rise
A race of beautiés conq'ring with thine eyes,
Who reigning in thy charms from death shall save
That lovely form, and triumph o'er the grave.
Thus when thro' age the rose-tree's charms decay,
When all her fading beauties die away,
A blooming offspring fills the parent's place
With equal fragrance and with equal grace.
But ah! how short a date on earth is giv'n
To the most lovely workmanship of heaven!
Too soon that cheek must ev'ry charm resign,
And those love-darting eyes forget to shine;
While thousands weeping round with sighs survey
What once was you—now only beauteous clay!
E'en from the canvass shall thy image fade,
And thou reperish in thy perish'd shade!
Then may this verse to future ages show
One perfect beauty such as thou art now!
May it the graces of thy soul display
Till this world sinks, and suns themselves decay,
When with immortal beauty thou shalt rise,
To shine the loveliest angel in the skies.