ON READING

MISS CARTER'S POEMS

IN MANUSCRIPT.

SUCH were the notes that struck the wondering ear
Of silent Night, when, on the verdant banks
Of Siloe's hallow'd brook, celestial harps,
According to seraphic voices, sung

GLORY TO GOD ON HIGH, AND ON THE EARTH
PEACE AND GOOD-WILL TO MEN!-Resume the
Chantress divine, and every Briton call

[lyre,

Its melody to hear-so shall thy strains,
More powerful than the song of Orpheus, tame
The savage heart of brutal Vice, and bend
At pure Religion's shrine the stubborn knees
Of bold Impiety.-Greece shall no more
Of Lesbian Sappho boast, whose wanton Muse,
Like a false syren, while she charm'd, seduc'd
To guilt and ruin. For the sacred head
Of Britain's poetess, the Virtues twine
A nobler wreath, by them from Eden's grove
Unfading gather'd, and direct the hand
to fix it on her brows.

Of

HYMEN TO ELIZA.

MADAM, before your feet I lay
This ode upon your wedding-day,
The first indeed I ever made,
For writing odes is not my trade:
My head is full of household cares,
And necessary dull affairs;

Besides that sometimes jealous frumps
Will put me into doleful dumps.
And then no clown beneath the sky
Was e'er more ungallant than I;
For you alone I now think fit
To turn a poet and a wit-

For you whose charms, I know not how,
Have power to smooth the wrinkled brow,
And make me, though by nature stupid,
As brisk and as alert as Cupid.
These obligations to repay,
Whene'er your happy nuptial day
Shall with the circling years return,
For you my torch shall brighter burn
Than when you first my power ador'd,
Nor will I call myself your lord,
But am (as witness this my hand)
Your humble servant at command.

HYMEN

Dear child, let Hymen not beguile
You, who are such a judge of style,
To think that he these verses made,
Without an able penman's aid :
Observe them well, you'll plainly see,
That every line was writ by me.

CUPID.

MOUNT EDGECUMBE.

THE gods, on thrones celestial seated,
By Jove with bowls of nectar heated,
All on Mount Edgecumbe turn'd their eyes.
'That place is mine,' great Neptune cries:
'Behold! how proud o'er all the main
Those stately turrets seem to reign!
No views so grand on earth you see!
The master too belongs to me:
I grant him my domain to share,
I bid his hand my trident bear.'

'The sea is yours, but mine the land ;'
Pallas replies, by me were plann'd

Those towers, that hospital, those docks,
That fort, which crowns those island-rocks:
The lady too is of my choir,

I taught her hand to touch the lyre;
With every charm her mind I grac'd,
I gave her prudence, knowledge, taste.'
'Hold, madam,' interrupted Venus,
" The lady must be shar'd between us :
And surely mine is yonder grove,
So fine, so dark, so fit for love;
frees, such as in the' Idalian glade,
Or Cyprian lawn, my palace shade.'
Then Oreads, Dryads, Naiads, came;
Each Nymph alledg'd her lawful claim.
But Jove, to finish the debate,
Thus spoke, and what he speaks is fate: -
'Nor god nor goddess, great or small,
That dwelling his or her's may call;
I made Mount Edgecumbe for you all.'

35

INVITATION

TO THE

DOWAGER DUTCHESS D'AIGUILLON,

WHEN Peace shall, on her downy wing,
To France and England friendship bring,
Come, Aiguillon, and here receive
That homage we delight to give
To foreign talents, foreign charms,
To worth which Envy's self disarms
Of jealous hatred. Come, and love
That nation which you now approve.
So shall by France amends be made
(If such a debt can e'er be paid)
For having with seducing art
From Britain stol'n her Hervey's heart.

ON GOOD-HUMOUR.

(WRITTEN AT ETON SCHOOL, 1729.)

TELL me, ye sons of Phoebus, what is this
Which all admire, but few, too few, possess?
A virtue 'tis to ancient maids unknown

And prudes, who spy all faults except their own.
Lov'd and defended by the brave and wise,
Though knaves abuse it, and like fools despise.
Say, Wyndham, if 'tis possible to tell,
What is the thing in which you most excel?
Hard is the question, for in all you please;
Yet sure good-nature is your noblest praise;
Secur'd by this, your parts no envy move,
For none can envy him whom all must love.
This magic power can make e'en folly please,
This to Pitt's genius adds a brighter grace,
And sweetens every charm in Calia's face.

INSCRIPTION

FOR

A BUST OF LADY SUFFOLK:

DESIGNED TO BE set up in a wood at stowe, 1732. HER wit and beauty for a court were made : But truth and goodness fit her for a shade.

EPIGRAM.

NONE without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair : But Love can hope, where Reason would despair,

SONG.

WHEN Delia on the plain appears,
Aw'd by a thousand tender fears,
I would approach, but dare not move ;
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

Whene'er she speaks, my ravish'd ear
No other voice but her's can hear,
No other wit but her's approve :
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

If she some other youth commend,
Though I was once his fondest friend,
His instant enemy I prove:
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?

When she is absent, I no more
Delight in all that pleas'd before,
The clearest spring, or shadiest grove :
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?