TO A YOUNG LADY, Who requested the Writer to draw her Character. Sept. 1774. A FABLE. IN vain, fair Maid, you ask in vain, My pen should try th' advent'rous strain, I own indeed, that generous mind That weeps the woes of human kind, That heart by friendship's charms inspired, That soul with sprightly fancy fired, The air of life, the vivid eye, The flowing wit, the keen reply То paint these beauties as they shine, Might ask a nobler pen than mine. Yet what sure strokes can draw the Fair, Who vary, like the fleeting air, Like willows bending to the force, Where'er the gales direct their course, Opposed to no misfortune's power, And changing with the changing hour. They charm the grove with pleasing strain; The sad tear trembles in their eye: One morn, in Æsop's noisy time, When all things talk'd, and talk'd in rhyme, A cloud exhaled by vernal beams Rose curling o'er the glassy streams. The dawn her orient blushes spread, And tinged its lucid skirts with red, Wide waved its folds with glitt'ring dies, And gaily streak'd the eastern skies; Beneath, illumed with rising day, The sea's broad mirror floating lay. Pleased, o'er the wave it hung in air, Survey'd its glittering glories there, And fancied, dress'd in gorgeous show, Itself the brightest thing below: For clouds could raise the vaunting strain, Yet well it knew, howe'er array'd, That beauty, e'en in clouds, might fade, And So, like them, in early dawn The world should from the portrait own Hard by, a painter raised his stage, To him, high floating in the sky * A celebrated American painter, who excelled in portraits. He afterwards visited London, where he gained a very high reputation by his picture of the death of Lord Chatham. The painter soon his colours brought, *The Grecian poets tell us, that Ixion having made an assignation with Juno, the goddess formed a cloud in her own shape and substituted it in her stead; on which, unconscious of the deception, he begat the Centaurs. |