"The queen, of all her family bereft,[1]
"Without or husband, son, or daughter left,
"Grew stupid at the shock. The passing air
"Made no impression on her stiff'ning hair.
"The blood forsook her face: amidst the flood
"Poured from her cheeks, quite fixed her eye-balls stood.
"Her tongue, her palate, both obdurate grew,
"Her curdled veins no longer motion knew;
"The use of neck, and arms, and feet was gone,
"And even her bowels hardened into stone:
"A marble statue now the queen appears,
But from the marble steal the silent tears."
TO S.M., A YOUNG AFRICAN PAINTER,
On seeing his Works.
To show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight!
Still, wondrous youth! each noble path pursue;
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire,
To aid thy pencil and thy verse conspire!
- ↑ This verse to the end is the work of another hand.
