Kind Heav'n (as to her darling son) to thee A double portion did impart, A gift of Painting and of Poesy: But for thy rivals in the painter's art, If well they represent, they can effect No more, nor can we more expect. 20 But more than this _thy_ happy pencils give; Thy draughts are more than representative, For, if we'll credit our own eyes, they _live!_ Ah! worthy friend, couldst thou maintain the state Of what with so much ease thou dost create, We might reflect on death with scorn! But pictures, like th' originals, decay! Of colours those consist, and these of clay; Alike compos'd of dust, to dust alike return! III. Yet 'tis our happiness to see 30 Oblivion, Death, and adverse Destiny Encounter'd, vanquish'd, and disarm'd by thee. For if thy pencils fail, Change thy artillery And thou'rt secure of victory. Employ thy quill and thou shall still prevail. The Grand Destroyer, greedy Time, reveres Thy Fancy's imag'ry, and spares The meanest thing that bears Th' impression of thy pen; 40 Tho' coarse and cheap their natural metal were, Stamp'd with thy verse he knows th' are sacred then, He knows them by that character to be Predestinate and set apart for immortality. IV. If native lustre in thy themes appear, Improv'd by thee it shines more clear: Or if thy subject's void of native light, Thy Fancy need but dart a beam To gild thy theme, And make the rude mass beautiful and bright. 50 Thou vary'st oft thy strains, but still Success attends each strain: Thy verse is always lofty as the hill, Or pleasant as the plain. How well thy Muse the Pastoral Song improves! Whose nymphs and swains are in their loves As innocent, and yet as kind as doves. But most She moves our wonder and delight, When She performs her loose Pindaric flight, Oft to their outmost reach She will extend 60 Her tow'ring wings to soar on high, And then by just degrees descend: Oft in a swift strait course She glides, Obliquely oft the air divides, And oft with wanton play hangs hov'ring in the sky. V.