To a Young Lady on Her Birthday
This tributary verse receive, my fair,
Warm with an ardent lover's fondest prayer,
May this returning day for ever
Thy form more lovely, more adorn'd thy mind;
All pains, all cares, may favouring heaven remove,
All but the sweet solicitudes of love!
May powerful nature join with grateful art,
To point each glance, and force it to the heart!
O then! when conquer'd crowds confess thy sway,
When even proud wealth and prouder wit obey,
My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust,
Alas! 'tis hard for beauty to be just.
Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ;
Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy;
With his own form acquaint the forward fool,
Shown in the mimic glass of ridicule:
Teach mimic censure her own faults to find,
No more let coquettes to themselves be blind,
So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind.
This was made almost impromptu; in the presence of Mr.
Hector. ~ Routledge.
Samuel Johnson
Other author posts
From Boethius
O Thou whose power o'er moving worlds presides, Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides, On darkling man in pure effulgence shine,
The Young Author
When first the peasant, long inclined to roam, Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home, Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields, He scorns the verdant meads and flowery fields;
Summer
O Phoebus down the western sky, Far hence diffuse thy burning ray, Thy light to distant worlds supply,
Horace Book II Ode 9
Clouds do not always veil the skies, Nor showers immerse the verdant plain; Nor do the billows always rise, Or storms afflict the ruffled main
