Yet ftill how faint by precept is exprest
The living image in the painter's breast ?
Thence endless ftreams of fair Ideas flow,
Strike in the sketch, or in the picture glow;
Thence beauty, waking all her forms, fupplies
An Angel's fweetnefs, or Bridgewater's eyes.
Mufe! at that Name thy facred forrows shed,
Thofe tears eternal, that embalin the dead:
Call round her Tomb each object of defire,
Each purer
frame inform'd with purer fire:
Bid her be all that chears or foftens life,
The tender fifter, daughter, friend, and wife:
Bid her be all that makes mankind adore;
Then view this Marble, and be vain no more!
Yet ftill her charms in breathing paint engage; 55 Her modeft cheek fhall warm a future age. Beauty, frail flow'r that ev'ry feafon fears, Blooms in thy colours for a thousand years. Thus Churchill's race fhall other hearts surprize, And other Beauties envy Worfley's eyes; Each pleafing Blount shall endless smiles bestow, And foft Belinda's blufh for ever glow.
Oh lafting as thofe Colours may they shine, Free as thy ftroke, yet faultless as thy line;
New graces yearly like thy works display,.
Soft without weakness, without glaring gay;
Led by fome rule, that guides, but not constrains;
And finish'd more thro' happiness than pains.
The kindred Arts fhall in their praise confpire,
One dip the pencil, and one ftring the lyre.
Yet fhould the Graces all thy figures place,
And breathe an air divine on ev'ry face;
'Yet fhould the Muses bid my numbers roll
Strong as their charms, and gentle as their foul;
With Zeuxis' Helen thy Bridgewater vie,
And thefe be fung 'till Granvill's Myra dye:
Alas! how little from the grave we claim !
Thou but preferv'ft a Face, and I a Name.
With the WORKS of VOITURE.
thoughts the Loves and Graces fhine,
In the Bay Writer lives in ev'ry line;
His eafy Art may happy Nature feem,
Trifles themselves are elegant in him.
Sure to charm all was his peculiar fate,
Who without flatt'ry pleas'd the fair and great:
Still with esteem no lefs convers'd than read;
With wit well-natur'd, and with books well-bred :
His heart, his mistress, and his friend did share,
His time, the Mufe, the witty and the fair.
Thus wifely carelefs, innocently gay,
Chearful he play'd the trifle, Life, away;
"Till fate fcarce felt his gentle breath fuppreft,
As fmiling Infants sport themselves to reft.
Ev'n rival Wits did Voiture's death deplore,
And the gay mourn'd who never mourn'd before;
The trueft hearts for Voiture heav'd with fighs,
Voiture was wept by all the brightest Eyes:
The Smiles and Loves had dy'd in Voiture's death,
But that for ever in his lines they breathe.
Let the ftrict life of graver mortals be
A long, exact, and ferious Comedy;
In ev'ry fcene fome Moral let it teach,
And, if it can, at once both pleafe and preach.
Let mine, an innocent gay farce appear,
And more diverting still than regular,
Have Humour, Wit, a native Ease and Grace,
Though not too ftrictly bound to Time and Place:
Critics in Wit, or Life, are hard to please,
Few write to thofe, and none can live to thefe. 30 Too much your Sex is by their forms confin'd, Severe to all, but moft to Womankind;
Custom, grown blind with Age, must be your guide; Your pleasure is a vice, but not your pride;
By Nature yielding, ftubborn but for fame;
Made Slaves by honour, and made Fools by fhame. Marriage may all thofe petty Tyrants chafe,
But fets up one, a greater in their place;
Well might you with for change by thofe accurft,
But the laft Tyrant ever proves the worst.
Still in constraint your fuff'ring Sex remains,
Or bound in formal, or in real chains :
Whole years neglected, for fome months ador'd,
The fawning Servant turns a haughty Lord.
Ah quit not the free innocence of life,
For the dull glory of a virtuous Wife;
Nor let falfe Shews, nor empty Titles please:
Aim not at Joy, but reft content with Ease.
The Gods, to curse Pamela with her pray'rs,
Gave the gilt Coach and dappled Flanders Mares, 50
The shining robes, rich jewels, beds of state,
And, to compleat her blifs, a Fool for mate.
She glares in Balls, front Boxes, and the Ring,
A vain, unquiet, glitt'ring, wretched Thing!
Pride, Pomp, and State but reach her outward part;
She fighs, and is no Duchefs at her heart.
But, Madam, if the fates withstand, and you
Are deftin'd Hymen's willing Victim too;
Trust not too much your now resistless charms,
Thofe, Age or Sickness, foon or late difarms :
Good humour only teaches charms to last,
Still makes new conquefts, and maintains the past;
Love, rais'd on Beauty, will like that decay,
Our hearts may bear its flender chain a day;
As flow'ry bands in wantonness are worn,
A morning's pleasure, and at evening torn;
This binds in ties more eafy, yet more strong,
The willing heart, and only holds it long.
Thus Voiture's early care ftill fhone the fame, And Monthaufier was only chang'd in name: By this, ev'n now they live, ev'n now they charm, Their Wit still sparkling, and their flames ftill warm.
Now crown'd with Myrtle, on th' Elyfian coaft,
Amid thofe Lovers, joys his gentle Ghoft:.
Pleas'd, while with finiles his happy lines you view,
And finds a fairer Rambouillet in you.
The brightest eyes of France infpir'd his Mufe;
The brightest eyes of Britain now peruse;
And dead, as living, 'tis our author's pride
Still to charm those who charm the world befide.
On her leaving the Town after the CORONATION.
S fome fond Virgin, whom her mother's care
Drags from the Town to wholesome Country
air;
Juft when fhe learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;
* Mademoiselle Paulet.
[Coronation] Of King George the first, 1715.
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