And fondly o'er the mellow tints I pause
Of her, whose vivid touch shames not her sire;
Bold Genius in his pride
Has marked her as his bride,
On his bright pinions bids her soul aspire,
Nor pay the tribute due by tardier Nature's laws. [FN#23]
[FN#23] While composing this ode the writer was shown a beautiful
specimen from the hand of a young daughter of the celebrated Stuart,
who entirely devoted herself to the art.
But guard thee well young J--e: in his embrace
How many seal with death their ectasy!
Too deep, intense, and wild,
For one so late a child,
I fear me lest the proffered transport be
That every earthlier joy absorbent would efface.
Soft is thy form--amid the unpent air,
Pay rosy exercise her just demands:
Tho' heaven thy lone hours woo
Earth still demands her due;
Gay health to guard e'en genius' palace stands--
And when she takes her flight--e'en genius, must despair.
Nor those alone doomed to incarnate birth
Painting, death-baffler, is it thine to save!
The heavenly shapes that flit,
When the entranced fit,
Is on, and the charmed soul forgets its earth,
Thou bidst to earthly eyes their sky-dipt vestments wave.
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