то MR. CONSTANTINE, ON HIS PAINTING S. WHILE o'er the cloth thy happy pencil ftrays, And the pleas'd eye its artful course surveys, Behold the magick power of fhade and light! A new creation opens to our fight. Here tufted groves rise boldly to the sky, There spacious lawns more diftant charm the eye; Like founds remote that die in air away. And Nature crowns the work, which Judgment guides. Nor with lefs fkill difplay'd by thee appear Doubt Doubtful to chufe, and fearing ftill to err, That bears Urania from our eager eyes ; Deaf to our call, the billows waft her o'er, With speed obfequious to a distant shore; A prize more rich than Spain's whole fleets could boast Se So from the fea when Venus rofe ferene, And by the nymphs and tritons first was seen, The watery world beheld, with pleas'd fuprize, O'er its wide wafte new tracks of light arise; The winds were hufh'd, the floods forgot to move, And nature own'd th' aufpicious Queen of Love. Henceforth no more the Cyprian ifle be nam'd, Though for th' abode of that bright goddess fam'd; Jamaica's happier groves, conceal'd fo long Through ages paft, are now the poets fong. The Graces there, and Virtues fix their throne; Urania makes th' adopted land her own. The Mufe, with her in thought tranfported, fees The opening scene, the bloomy plants and trees, By brighter fkies rais'd to a nobler birth, And fruits deny'd to Europe's colder earth. At her approach, like courtiers doubly gay To grace the pomp of some lov'd prince's day, The gladden'd foil in all its plenty fhines, New spreads its branching palms, and new adorns its pines; With gifts prepares the shining guest to meet, And pours its verdant offerings at her feet. As in the fields with pleasure he appears, Smiles on the labourers, and their labours cheers, The melons ripen, and the citrons blow, The golden orange takes a richer dye, Not Not Ceres' felf more bleffings could display, When through the earth fhe took her wandering way, Far from her native coaft, and all around Diffus'd ripe harvests through the teeming ground. Mean while our drooping vales deferted mourn, So when of late our fun was veil'd from fight } THE THE FOLLOWING SUPPLEMENT AND CONCLUSION TO Mr. MILTON's incomparable Poem, entitled, IL PENSEROSO, or THE PENSIVE MAN, was alfo writ by Mr. Hughes. It seems neceflary to quote the eight foregoing lines for the right understanding of it. ND may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and moffy cell, To fomething like prophetic train.' The fcenes of deep eternity, Till life diffolving at the view, I wake, and find those visions true! THE |