Let him that draws it hide the rest in night;
This portion only may endure the light, [shape,
Where the kind nymph, changing her faultless
Becomes unhandsome, handsomely to 'scape,
When through the guards, the river, and the sea,
Faith, Beauty, Wit, and Courage, made their way.
As the brave eagle does with sorrow see
The forest wasted, and that lofty tree
Which holds her nest about to be o'erthrown,
Before the feathers of her young are grown,
She will not leave them, nor she cannot stay,
But bears them boldly on her wings away:
So fled the dame, and o'er the ocean bore
Her princely burden to the Gallic shore.
Born in the storms of war, this Royal Fair,
Produced like lightning in tempestuous air,
Though now she flies her native isle, (less kind,
Less safe for her than either sea or wind!)
Shall, when the blossom of her beauty's blown,
See her great brother on the British throne;
Where Peace shall smile, and no dispute arise,
But which rules most, his sceptre, or her eyes.
PLAYING WITH A SNAKE.
STRANGE! that such horror and such grace
Should dwell together in one place;
A fury's arm, an angel's face!
"Tis innocence and youth which makes
In Chloris' fancy such mistakes,
To start at love, and play with snakes.