I'm a twin brother, mostly white as milk,
Neatly attired in woollen or in silk;
On every belle I constantly attend,
More in the guise of servant than of friend;
And if by chance I'm either stolen or stray'd,
Shame and vexation seize the blushing maid.
However, (and I own the act was civil,
And shews that good may be educed from evil,)
The loss of such a little paltry thing,
Hinted a decoration to a king.
Enough for one-too much for two-and nothing.
I'm the frailest and weakest of possible things,
Yet often secure what may overturn kings;
I'm entrusted with secrets by age and by youth,
And perish before I discover the truth.
Though weak, I'm inflexible-break ere I bend ;-
But I'll mention no more-for I'm at your tongue's end.
IN Gothic towers and palaces I dwell,
In deep recesses of the hallow'd cell;
In gloomy caves, where man ne'er dared
His form to trust, my plaintive voice is heard.
'Mongst hollow rocks, I take my airy flight,
My form secluded still from mortal sight;
Bred by the offspring of the human mind,
I to the world an instant passage find.
Yet short the space of time my life can boast,
Born in one moment, in another lost,
I once a nymph was-sported on the plains,
The pride and glory of the neighbouring swains;
Till, cross'd in love, I left my native glade,
My form consumed, and dwindled to a shade.
BRITONS, in me you may behold, of late,
A dismal instance of inconstant fate :
Five thousand years and more ran gently round,
While I, from most, respect and honour found;
By heroes, sages, senators, caress'd;
To kings and princes no unwelcome guest;
Nay, in such great request-so ran the taste-
That those without me seem to be disgraced.
But see the issue of my prosperous fate!
Scarce dare I offer to appear of late,
But men my life with fatal steel pursue,
And all around my mangled members strew.
THE child of genius, I'm consign'd to fame,
By curious artists of no vulgar name;
The gay delight of laughing girls and boys,
In youth's best prime, intent on fleeting joys;
Fond of th' illusions fancy's pencil draws,
And ever prone to view me with applause.
Averse from powerful Sol's profusive light,
I fly to tapers, and the reign of night;
Like vice, suspicious of day's garish eye,
In shades alone my boasted arts I try :
In close shut room I take my passive stand-
Around me wait a gay expectant band,
Eager my pleasing mysteries to view,
And gaze with transports on the feats I shew.
By me display'd before their wond'ring eyes,
The past, the present, and the future rise;
By me inform'd, they mark the virtuous deed,
Bright honour's fame, and bravery's well-earn'd meed;
By me they learn the infamy and shame,
That brands the villain's dark, unhallow'd name;
While airs melodious wait my moral strain,
To charm the list'ning ear, and win the blooming train.
WHAT could man do without my aid,
Or what each fair, industrious maid?
I lead the first o'er sea and land,
The second takes me by the hand,
Presses me close, with care and skill,
And makes me do whate'er she will.
I cannot boast of many charms-
I've neither feet, nor legs, nor arms;
But all allow I have an eye,
So fine, it may with beauty vie.
I fear I many wounds impart,
Shed blood, but never touch the heart.
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