Classic Poem

FOR THE COUNTESS OF CARLISLE .

Give Lucinda pearl nor stone;
Lend them light who else have none:
Let her beauties shine alone.

Gums nor spice bring from the East,
For the phaenix in her breast
Builds his funeral pile and nest.

No tire thou canst invent
Shall to grace her form be sent:
She adorns all ornament.

Give her nothing: but restore
Those sweet smiles, which heretofore
In her cheerful eyes she wore.

Drive those envious clouds away,
Veils that have o'er-cast my day,
And eclipsed her brighter ray.

Let the royal Goth mow down
This year's harvest with his own
Sword, and spare Lucinda's frown.

Janus, if when next I trace
Those sweet lines, I in her face
Read the charter of my grace,

Then from bright Apollo's tree
Such a garland wreath'd shall be,
As shall crown both her and thee.