Classic Poem

To a Lady,

With the COLLECTION of MISCELLANCEOUS POETRY,

Friend of my soul, accept from Friendship's hand
The grateful garland to thy virtues due;
Oh! smile propitious on the votive band
Whose flowers once shelter'd by thy favour grew.

Rude, and uncultur'd in my infant foul,
The seeds of poesy, profusely spread,
By nature sown, nor yet had art's controul
To seemly order the redundance led.

Yet thee they pleas'd: thy polish'd taste approv'd
The simple carrol of my untaught lays.
And see! th' ambitious muse, by thee belov'd,
Now stands a candidate for public praise.

Shine, sun of hope! but ah; the clouds of fear
Alternate chill me with foreboding gloom;
Bright fairy visions rise, and disappear,
As praise and censure seem, by turns, my doom.

Say, gentle friend, should scorn, with murderous smile,
Launch her keen arrow at my victim page;
Should critic censure, rich with many a spoil,
Consign my labours to oblivion's rage:

Will not thy bosom with resentment glow?
Resentment mix'd with pity's softening tear.
And wilt thou not appear to ward the blow
With Candour's buckler arm'd, and Friendship's spear?

Yet all in vain; thy pious zeal will prove,
The shaft of ridicule resistless flies;
Vain thy consoling, animating love,
The timid muse repents, despairs, and dies.

Then let me ask thee, when the tuneful power
" Her nightly visions " shall no more repeat?
When active duty, seizing every hour,
Shall cloud gay fancy's visionary seat?

When sweet forgetfulness (what numerous years
Ere then shall lapse) the past indulgent veils?
When disappointment wipes away her tears,
And quiet peace and still content prevails?

Yet canst thou then approve, with preference kind,
The insipid converse of the village dame?
Tho' taste and science quit the busy mind,
Still shall the honest heart thy favour claim,

Oh! would that health, as surely may again,
O'er thy lov'd form her healing balm diffuse;
As I shall still thy dear esteem retain,
E'en when deserted by th' inspiring Muse.