Latest time shall sound The praise of female genius. Oft shall GEORGE Pay the kind tear, and grief of tender words To CAROLINE, thus oft lamenting sad. "Hail sacred shade! by me with endless woe "Still honour'd! ever in my Breast shall dwell "Thy image, ever present to my soul "Thy faithful love, in length of years mature: "O skill'd t'enliven time, to soften care "With looks and smiles and friendship's chearful voice! "Anxious, of Thee bereft, a solitude "I feel, that not the fond condoling cares "Of our sad offspring can remove. Ev'n now "With lonely steps I trace the gloomy groves, "Thy lov'd recesses, studious to recall "The vanish'd bliss, and cheat my wand'ring thoughts "With sweet illusion. Yet I not accuse "Heav'n's dispensation. Prosperous and long "Have been my days, and not unknown to fame, "That dwells with virtue. But 'tis hard to part "The league of ancient friendship, to resign "The home-felt fondness, the secure delight, "That reason nourish'd, and fair fame approv'd." THE GENEALOGY OF CHRIST, AS IT IS REPRESENTED ON THE EAST WINDOW OF WINCHESTER COLL. CHAPEL. WRITTEN AT WINTON SCHOOL, BY DR. LOWTHE. At once to raise our rev'rence and delight, To elevate the mind, and please the sight, To pour in virtue at th' attentive eye, And waft the soul on wings of extacy; For this the painter's art with nature vies, And bids the visionary saint arise; Who views the sacred forms in thought aspires, Catches pure zeal, and as he gazes, fires; Feels the same ardour to his breast convey'd, Is what he sees, and emulates the shade. Thy strokes, great Artist, so sublime appear, They check our pleasure with an awful fear; While, thro' the mortal line, the God you trace, Author himself, and Heir of Jesse's race; In raptures we admire thy bold design, And, as the subject, own the hand divine. While thro' thy work the rising day shall stream, So long shall last thine honour, praise and name. And may thy labours to the Muse impart Some emanation from her sister art, To animate the verse, and bid it shine In colours easy, bright, and strong, as Thine. Supine on earth an awful figure lies, While softest slumbers seem to seal his eyes; The hoary sire Heav'ns guardian care demands, And at his feet the watchful angel stands. The form august and large, the mien divine Betray the [2]founder of Messiah's line. Lo! from his loins the promis'd stem ascends, And high to Heaven its sacred Boughs extends: Each limb productive of some hero springs, And blooms luxuriant with a race of kings. Th' eternal plant wide spreads its arms around, And with the mighty branch the mystic top is crown'd. And lo! the glories of th' illustrious line At their first dawn with ripen'd splendors shine,