CATHARINA. TO MRS. STAPLETON, NOW MRS. COURTNAY. SHE came-she is gone-we have met- The sun of that moment is set, And seems to have risen in vain. The last evening ramble we made, By the nightingale warbling nigh. And much she was charm'd with a tone Less sweet to Maria and me, Who so lately had witness'd her own. My numbers that day she had sung, Could infuse into numbers of mine. The longer I heard, I esteem'd The work of my fancy the more, And ev'n to myself never seem'd So tuneful a poet before. Though the pleasures of London exceed In number the days of the year, Catharina, did nothing impede, Would feel herself happier here; For the close-woven arches of limes On the banks of our river, I know, Are sweeter to her many times Than aught that the city can show. Since then in the rural recess The scene of her sensible choice! From the clatter of street-pacing steeds, And by Philomel's annual note To measure the life that she leads. With her book, and her voice, and her lyre, She will have just the life she prefers, And ours would be pleasant as hers, Might we view her enjoying it there. CATHARINA. SECOND PART. On her Marriage to George Courtnay, Esq. 1792. BELIEVE it or not, as you choose, I did but express a desire To see Catharina at home, At the side of my friend George's fire, Such prophecy some may despise ; And therefore attains to its eud. Maria' would leave us, I knew, To the grief and regret of us all, But less to our grief, could we view Catharina the queen of the hall: Lady Throckmorton. And therefore I wish'd as I did, And therefore this union of hands; Not a whisper was heard to forbid, But all cry-Amen-to the bans. Since therefore I seem to incur No danger of wishing in vain, When making good wishes for her, I will ev'n to my wishes againWith one I have made her a wife, And now I will try with another, Which I cannot suppress for my life How soon I can make her a mother. GRATITUDE. ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH. 1786. THIS cap, that so stately appears, With ribbon-bound tassel on high, Which seems by the crest that it rears Ambitious of brushing the sky: This cap to my cousin I owe; She gave it, and gave me beside, Wreathed into an elegant bow, The ribbon with which it is tied. This wheel-footed studying chair, These carpets, so soft to the foot, Secure from collision and dust, |