And to all this fame he rose Neptune was he call'd, not he 1792. ON RECEIVING HAYLEY'S PICTURE. IN language warm as could be breathed or penn'd ON A PLANT OF VIRGIN'S BOWER. DESIGNED TO COVER A GARDEN-SEAT. THRIVE, gentle plant! and weave a bower And deck with many a splendid flower, Thou camest from Eartham, and wilt shade (If truly I divine) Some future day the illustrious head Of him who made thee mine. Should Daphne show a jealous frown Affirming none so fit to crown Thy cause with zeal we shall defend, For why should not the virgin's friend ON RECEIVING HEYNE'S VIRGIL FROM MR. HAYLEY. I SHOULD have deem'd it once an effort vain STANZAS, ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH, BY A LADY, In returning a Poem of Mr. Cowper's, lent to the Writer, on condition she should neither show it nor take a copy. WHAT Wonder! if my wavering hand Had dared to disobey, When Hesketh gave a harsh command, And Cowper led astray. Then take this tempting gift of thine, By pen uncopied yet! But canst thou Memory confine, Or teach me to forget? More lasting than the touch of art, Her characters remain; When written by a feeling heart On tablets of the brain. COWPER'S REPLY. To be remember'd thus is fame, And in the first degree; And did the few, like her, the same, So Homer, in the mem'ry stor❜d Of many a Grecian belle, Was once preserved—a richer hoard, But never lodged so well. LINES ADDRESSED TO MISS THEODORA JANE COWPER. WILLIAM was once a bashful youth, His modesty was such, That one might say, to say the truth, Some said that it was want of sense, (So blest a thing is impudence,) But some a different notion had, Howe'er, it happen'd, by degrees, Nay, now and then, could look quite gay, And sometimes said, or tried to say, He eyed the women, and made free The women said, who thought him rough, At length improved from head to heel, Now that a miracle so strange May not in vain be shown, Let the dear maid who wrought the change E'en claim him for her own! TO THE SAME. How quick the change from joy to wo, Next day the scene was overcast- Yet ere we look'd our last farewell, LINES ON A SLEEPING INFANT. SWEET babe! whose image here express'd Guilt or fear, to break thy rest, Soothing slumbers! soft repose, Harmless infant! lull thee still. LINES. OH! to some distant scene, a willing exile |