On the cold fen I see thee turn thine eyes, Its mists recede, its chilling vapour flies; Th' enraptured lord th' improving ground surveys, And for his Eden asks the traveller's praise, Which yet, unview'd of thee, a bog had been, 300 Where spungy rushes hide the plashy green. "I see thee breathing on the barren moor, That seems to bloom although so bleak before; There, if beneath the gorse the primrose spring, Or the pied daisy smile below the ling, They shall new charms, at thy command, disclose, And none shall miss the myrtle or the rose. The wiry moss, that whitens all the hill, Shall live a beauty by thy matchless skill; Gale[26] from the bog shall yield Arabian balm, 310 And the grey willow wave a golden palm. "I see thee smiling in the pictured room, Now breathing beauty, now reviving bloom; There, each immortal name 'tis thine to give To graceless forms, and bid the lumber live. Should'st thou coarse boors or gloomy martyrs see, These shall thy Guidos those thy Teniers' be; There shalt thou Raphael's saints and angels trace, } There make for Rubens and for Reynolds place, } And all the pride of art [shalt] find in her disgrace. 320 } "Delight of either sex! thy reign commence; } With balmy sweetness soothe the weary sense, } And to the sickening soul thy cheering aid dispense. } Queen of the mind! thy golden age begin; } In mortal bosoms varnish shame and sin; } Let all be fair without, let all be calm within." } The Vision fled; the happy mother rose, Kiss'd the fair infant, smiled at all her foes, And FLATTERY made her name:--her reign began, Her own dear sex she ruled, then vanquish'd man; 330 A smiling friend, to every class, she spoke, Assumed their manners, and their habits took; Her, for her humble mien, the modest loved; Her cheerful looks the light and gay approved; The just beheld her, firm; the valiant, brave; Her mirth the free, her silence pleased the grave; Zeal heard her voice, and, as he preach'd aloud, Well-pleased he caught her whispers from the crowd-- (Those whispers, soothing-sweet to every ear, Which some refuse to pay, but none to hear); 340 Shame fled her presence; at her gentle strain, Care softly smiled, and guilt forgot its pain; The wretched thought, the happy found her true; The learn'd confess'd that she their merits knew; The rich--could they a constant friend condemn? The poor believed--for who should flatter them? Thus on her name though all disgrace attend, In every creature she beholds a friend. FOOTNOTES: [26] "Myrica gale," a shrub growing in boggy and fenny grounds. REFLECTIONS UPON THE SUBJECT----