PARTIAL FAME. THE sturdy man, if he in love obtains, Though he, for all his boast, is forc'd to yield, He vaunts his conquest, she conceals her shame; TO CLOE. WHILST I am scorch'd with hot desire, In vain cold friendship you return; Your drops of pity on my fire, Alas! but make it fiercer burn. Ah! would you have the flame supprest, TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF DEVONSHIRE, ON A PIECE OF WIESSEN'S WHEREON WERE ALL HER GRANDSONS PAINTED. WIESSEN1 and Nature held a long contest, With pleasing thought the wondrous combat grew, With art increas'd, their utmost skill they tried, And, both well pleas'd they had themselves surpass'd, The goddess triumph'd, and the painter died. That both, their skill to this vast height did raise, Be ours the wonder, and be yours the praise: 1 William Wiessen, an eminent portrait painter, born at the Hague in 1656. He learned the art of painting from Dodoens, and after some time spent with him, visited England, and improved himself under Sir Peter Lely, whose manner he imitated with success. "He had the honour," says Mr. Pilkington, "to be competitor with Sir Godfrey Kneller, though the superiority was allowed to the latter, on account of that dignity and air which Kneller generally gave to his portraits; however, the real merit of Wiessen as an artist, as also the politeness of his manners, secured to him the esteem of the great, and provided him employment as long as he lived." Dictionary of Painters, 4to, 1770, p. 695. He died 1687. For here, as in some glass, is well descried 1 When Heaven had you and gracious Anna 1 made, It but kept up to these, nor could do more Than copy If in dear Burghley's generous face we see With all that world of charms, which soon will move That thought can fancy, or that Heaven can form; So when the parent sun, with genial beams, 1 Eldest daughter of the countess. He sees himself improv'd, while every stone, So when great Rhea many births had given, And to what God soe'er men altars rais'd, Honouring the offspring, they the mother prais'd. In short-liv'd charms let others place their joys, Which sickness blasts, and certain age destroys: Your stronger beauty time can ne'er deface, 'Tis still renew'd, and stamp'd in all your race. Ah! Wiessen, had thy art been so refin'd, As with their beauty to have drawn their mind: Through circling years thy labours would survive, And living rules to fairest virtue give, To men unborn and ages yet to live: "Twould still be wonderful, and still be new, Against what time, or spite, or fate, could do; Till thine confus'd with Nature's pieces lie, And Cavendish's name and Cecil's honour die. A FABLE FROM PHÆDRUS. TO THE AUTHOR OF THE MEDLEY,1 1710. THE fox an actor's vizard found, And peer'd, and felt, and turn'd it round: 1 A periodical paper by Oldmixon, Maynwaring, and others, set up in opposition to the Examiner. Then threw it in contempt away, ON MY BIRTHDAY, JULY 21. I, My dear, was born to-day, So all my jolly comrades say; They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know, I, my dear, was born to-day, 1 Mrs. Anne Durham. |