Having no nobler images in store,
Is but kept up to thefe, nor could do more
Than copy well what it had fram'd before
If in dear Burghlev's gen'rous face we fee
Obliging truth and handsome honesty,
With all that world of charms which foon will move zo
Reverence in men, and in the fair ones love;
His ev'ry grace his fair defcent affures,
He has his mother's beauty, the has your's.
If ev'ry Cecil's face had ev'ry charm
That thought can fancy or that Heav'n can form, 25
Their beauties all become your beauty's due ;
They are all fair, because they're all like you.
If ev'ry Ca'ndifh great and charming look,
From you that air, from you the charms, they took.
In their each limb your image is expreft,
But on their brow firm courage ftands confeft;
There their great father, by a strong increase,
Adds ftrength to beauty, and completes the piece.
Thus till your beauty in your fors we view,
Wieffen fev'n times one great perfection drew;
Whoever fat, the picture ftill is you.
So when the parent-fun with genial beams
Has animated many goodly gems,
He fees himself improv'd, while ev'ry stone,
With a refembling light, reflects a fun.
So when great Rhea many births had giv'n,
Such as might govern earth and people heav'n,
Her glory grew diffus'd; and, fuller known,
She faw the Deity in ev'ry fon;
And to what god foe'er men altars rais'd,
Hon'ring the offspring, they the mother prais'd.
In short-liv'd charms let others place their joys,
Which ficknefs blafts, and certain age destroys;
Your stronger beauty time can ne'er deface,
'Tis ftill renew'd, and ftamp'd in all your race.
Ah! Wieffen, had thy art been fo refin'd
As with their beauty to have drawn their mind,
Thro' circling years thy labours would survive,
And living rules to faireft virtue give,
To men unborn and ages yet to live:
T'would ftill be wonderful, and still be new,
Against what time, or fpite, or fate, could do,
Till thine, confus'd with Nature's pieces lie,
And Ca'ndifh's name and Cecil's honour die.
TO A YOUNG LADY,
WHO WAS FOND OF FORTUNE-TELLING.
YOU, Madam, may with fafety go
Decrees of deftiny to know;
For at your birth kind planets reign'd,
And certain happiness ordain'd:
Such charms as your's are only giv'n
To chofen favourites of Heav'n.
But fuch is my uncertain ftate
'Tis dangerous to try my fate;
For I would only know from art
The future motions of your heart,
And what predeftinated doom
Attends my love for years to come,
No fecrets elfe that mortals learn
My cares deferve, or life concern;
But this will fo important be
I dread to fearch the dark decree;
For while the smallest hope remains
Faint joys are mingled with my pains.
Vain diftant views my fancy please,
And give fome intermitting eafe;
But fhould the ftars too plainly show
That you have doom'd my endless woe,
No human force or art could bear
The torment of my wild despair.
This fecret then I dare not know,
And other truths are useless now.
What matters if, unbleft in love,
How long or fort my life will prove?
To gratify what low defire
Should I with needlefs hafte inquire,
How great how wealthy I fhall be?
Oh, what is wealth or pow'r to me !
If I am happy or undone,
It must proceed from you alone.
TO A FRIEND ON HIS NUPTIALS.
HEN Jove lay bleft in his Alcmena's charms,
Three nights in one he preft her in his arms;
The fun lay fet, and confcicus nature strove
To fhade her god, and to prolong his love.
From that aufpicious night Alcides came;
What lefs could rife from Jove and fuch a dame?
May this aufpicious night with that compare,
Nor lefs the joys, nor lefs the rifing heir,
He ftrong as Jove, the like Alcmæna fair.
TO A POET OF QUALITY,
PRAISING THE LADY HINCHINBROKE.
F thy judicious Mufe's fenfe,
Young Hinchinbroke fo very proud is,
That Sachariffa and Hortenfe
She looks henceforth upon as dowdies.
Yet fhe to one must still fubmit,
To dear Mamma must pay her duty;
She wonders, praifing Wilmot's wit,
Thou shouldft forget his daughter's beauty.
DESIRING THE QUEEN'S PICTURE,
Written at Paris 1714, but left unfinished, by the sudden news of her Majesty's death.
'HE train of equipage and pomp of state,
Let other minifters, great Anne, require,
And partial fall thy gift to their defire.
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